A few days more
by evil minded
Summary: AU / sequel to "Twenty-one days" – read this first or you wouldn't understand all that happens in this story here. How will those fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindors who survived their imprisonment go on in all-day life after their survival? How will they manage to reintegrate into the all day life of the school? And how will outside people react to them?
1. prologue, the end of the tunnel

**Title:**

A few days more

Sequel to twenty-one days

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Fourth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

"A few days more" is the sequel to "Twenty-one days" – read and review this first or you wouldn't understand all that happens in this story.

The fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindors have survived their imprisonment in the potions classroom situated in the dungeons. How will they go on in all-day life after their survival? How will they manage to reintegrate into the castle's routine and their classes? How will they be able to go back to life at all? Watch how those who survived fight for their lives and for their peace, for their place in the community at Hogwarts.

**Disclaimer: **

Did you see Severus alive at the end of _'The deathly hallows'_? no?

Do you think I would have had him died if I had written those books? no?

Then you know that _'Harry Potter'_ does not belong to me … nor does Severus … regrettably … he belongs to J. K. Rowling …

But Hereweald Hrothgar does …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Warning:**

Story contains references to child abuse.

Child-abuse is a really serious thing, it is an evil thing and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help without being helped, and closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist, is no solution …

I only say - remind yourself of your feelings, of your sympathy, and of your understanding … and handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once being abused … with understanding and with help …

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me - I am …

* * *

><p>break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line<p>

**Previously in twenty-one days**

_He had promised them not only to keep their spirits up. He had believed in it, knowing that they would not believe in it either if he did not. But the longer they had been down there, the weaker they had gotten, the harder it had been to actually keep this confidence up._

_But they had made it and he had to admit that he was rather proud at them, at all of them. They all had grown beyond them, even Ronald Weasley._

_He watched the boy taking his seat beside Blaise Zabini at the end of the Slytherin table, not even casting a glance at the Gryffindor table, just like all the other Gryffindors did. They automatically had followed Vincent, Gregory and Blaise to the Slytherin table and they automatically had taken their seats there without questioning their actions, and the Slytherins had accepted them on their table without thinking either._

_He guided Harry to the table and seated the boy beside Theodore while he himself sat on Harry's other side. Most of them had their arms laying on the table and their heads resting on their arms, their eyes closed, ready to sleep and never ever wake again and he actually was glad for the moment the bowls with the broth appeared._

_"Eat!" He softly ordered, his voice however not allowing contradictions. "And eat slowly. Use the spoons." He knew how tired they were and that most of them probably wouldn't bother eating anything, their tiredness, their exhaustion overshadowing their hunger that had become something they had gotten used to anyway, but he also knew how important it was. "You do not have to finish it, but I want you to at least try it." Not only was it important that they ate something at all, but that they ate together right now. They had survived together, and they should end this together. "And if you feel sick, then just say so and I will give you a stomach potion."_

_He watched them eating, spooning their soup, broth only, but it was good to know that they were able to eat something, that they actually had something to eat. Not everyone was out of the woods yet, he knew, and his gaze wandered over Harry and Theodore, brushed even Draco, Tracy and Parvati, but they actually had real chances now. They would survive, he just had to believe in it, just like he had believed that they would make it out of the dungeons alive._

**A few days more**

**Chapter one – prologue**

**Day one – twenty-third of September – Monday evening**

**The end of the tunnel**

It was slow going, waking up, but he immediately knew that it wasn't a dream but reality, that he indeed _was_ about to wake. He often had dreamed that he was about to wake up lately without being able to actually doing so, without being able moving, opening his eyes or giving away a sound while he could hear voices around him that either demanded of him to wake up, sounding desperate and strangely like the Professor's voice or voices that sounded cold and harsh, saying that he wasn't worth waking, that he should die instead. But this time he knew that it wasn't one of those dreams, knew that he was leaving the land of the dreaming to enter reality. At least it _felt_ real.

The first thing he consciously realized was – he was not laying on his mat like he should but in a bed that was not as thin and as hard as had been the mat he so long now had been sleeping on and he remembered that he hadn't been able to do better mats, maybe due to the fact that the magic down in the dungeons had been drained rather quickly. Maybe that had been the reason as to why he hadn't been able cushioning the books more than he actually had? Because the magic already had started to fade when he had transfigured and then cushioned the books? It could be possible, he thought.

The second thing he consciously got aware of was, that he was not covered with the thin blanket like he should but with a thicker and more comfortable one and he testily tried moving his fingers, tried to feel the fabric of the blanket he was covered with and with some satisfaction he noticed that he _indeed was able to_. A bit only, he was sure of that, even though it nearly seemed to be an impossible task, but he could move them and he felt the fabric of the blanket, tried to grip it – and failed.

The next thing he noticed was, that he didn't freeze but that he actually was comfortably warm. He wasn't sure though if it was due to the now thicker blanket he was covered with, or if it was due to any other cause and for a short moment he even wondered where the thicker and more comfortable blanket had come from, but the thought was gone too soon before he really could grasp at it, let alone find an answer to it. It wasn't important though, he guessed. Maybe the Professor had found it in one of the cupboards down here to keep him alive somehow and suddenly he remembered the man's desperation.

Merlin, Snape – Severus, he had even cried over him just a few hours ago, or maybe it had been yesterday, he wasn't sure about that. Time had become something rather unimportant down here the longer they were here. So – if Severus had been so desperate because he worried over him, then surely those voices who said he wasn't worth waking, that he should die instead, it surely weren't the voices of Severus or his friends down here – a thought that strangely comforted him and he relaxed.

He didn't know if he had drifted off for a few minutes more, because it felt like waking up again when the next thing he realized were soft voices around him, soft murmuring voices that seemed strangely known to him and yet so far away as if they came from his dreams, and again he immediately knew that they were not from his dreams, that they were real.

He couldn't make out the words that were spoken, but he could make out one voice that seemed closer now, that seemed to demand something of him, again, a deep and velvet voice that was strangely comforting and reassuring. But for the life of him – he didn't know what it wanted of him and before he could figure it out he was claimed by sleep once more.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Uncle Severus?" Draco's voice to his right made him looking up at his godson, the boy standing beside him and looking worried, nearly scared.

"What is it, Draco?" He asked, sighing, forcing his attention to leave Harry for a moment and going over to the blond boy that still looked too pale and he noticed Theodore standing close behind, looking just as unsure and scared as did his godson.

"Why isn't he waking?" Draco asked. "He's been sleeping all night and all day long, shouldn't he wake up by now? He will wake, won't he?"

"Of course he will, you silly child." The Potions Master growled, shaking his head for a moment, but then he took a deep breath. His godson had asked nothing else than he himself had worried about just as well, they just were as concerned as was he, nothing else and it surely was nothing to growl at. "He has been worse than the rest of us and so of course it will take him more time to wake." He then explained. "Not to mention that we have put him into a healing sleep last night upon arriving here to restore as much of his lost energy as possible, as little as this will be to begin with anyway, it was the only choice we had at that moment."

"But he's here, and he's alive." Draco softly said. "He made it and surely he'll be alright, won't he?"

Severus hesitated for a moment, but then his face became resolved. He had never lied to his students and surely he wouldn't start doing so now, never mind the answer.

"I cannot answer your question, Draco." He quietly and calmly said, as calmly as possible at least as he himself didn't feel calm at all. "The diagnostics we have cast last night have shown that the damage caused by starvation was indeed worse than I had hoped for and if I have to be honest – it is a miracle that he even has survived so far, let alone walking to the great hall last night."

Well, it was true after all and looking over the other students, Ronald, Hermione, Blaise and Tracy sitting at a table Albus had conjured this morning – playing this infuriating game of cards and chess pieces Potter had come up with, Neville standing close to Theodore and Draco – listening, some of the others sitting on the beds in small groups – chatting quietly and a few others sleeping – again, he – and not for the first time – realized how close to death Harry had been. And how close all of them had come.

Merlin, just 24 hours earlier the boy, his son, had drifted in and out of consciousness, barely able to breathe, barely able keeping alive and it had been a small miracle indeed, that he had woken enough to take the pepper up potion Poppy – luckily – had brought with her. Without it the brat surely wouldn't have managed the long way from the dungeons to the great hall, even if it was – again – a small miracle that the teen had managed this way up all those stairs even _with_ the potion in his system that had given him a boost of energy.

Well, he knew that _maybe_ he shouldn't have allowed Harry this way, maybe he should have had seen to the boy being brought to the infirmary upon their rescue immediately, but at the same time he had known – and still knew – how important this had been, and not only to Harry but to all of them – and yes, _including_ Harry, to be together and to go this way on their own two feet, to show this much of strength, of liberty and of independence, of togetherness even.

However, despite it being a small miracle, Harry _had_ managed, the boy once more proving not only his unbelievable strength but his will-power, his _stubbornness_ actually, and he had sat there with the others, had eaten the soup together with the others, had drunk half a cup of tea together with the others, a look on his pale face he never had seen on the boy before, on any child before, a look that had gone beyond pure bliss, beyond pure heaven, and definitely a look he never wanted to see on any child's face ever again. It had been a look that clearly said – Harry had known how close to death he had been and it had been a look that clearly showed – the boy had known what this particular meal, as small as it had been, maybe could mean for his survival.

Of course he, Snape, _he_ knew that this single small meal had _not_ made the difference between life and death, that it maybe could have been the last of the boy's meals anyway as the damage done by starvation simply had been too serious, life threatening, and that a few spoons of soup wouldn't undo that damage. But Harry was a child, a fourteen year old boy and a child that had been in a situation no one should be in, and surely not a child. Of course for him this meal had felt as if it might save his life – the fact of any child having to think in those directions a startling thought, he had to admit that.

Few of them had complained about the small portions, most of them being too glad that they had _anything_ to eat at all finally and those who had – Vincent and Gregory as well as Ronald – they too soon had learned that they wouldn't have managed eating a second anyway. What had him worried had been Harry barely managing only _half_ of the already small portions of soup and only a few small bites of the toast before feeling full and even unwell despite the stomach soothing potion they'd been given. But well, he had known that this would be the case and he had known that it wouldn't be easy either.

The boy had been sitting there for a short while, like the others, simply bathing in the feeling of freedom, of having something else than plain water, of being in the great hall, together, of normalcy returning after twenty-one days of imprisonment in the potions classroom without real food, of seeing something else than the small space of the classroom, laboratory and the kitchen or his office. The moment however they had finally stood to allow Poppy, Albus, the other heads of houses and him, Snape, to get them to the infirmary with their emergency portkeys, he had his son clinging to his wrist and his hand for a moment and he had been just in time to wrap his arms around the child before the small and fragile body had gone limp in his arms, the child simply having reached his limits finally and having lost consciousness.

He hadn't hesitated but brought Harry to the infirmary where Poppy and him had waved their wands, had cast diagnostics and then had shifted the boy's sleep from unconsciousness to a more healing sleep that would be more refreshing and recovering, but he surely never would forget those particular few minutes. And neither would he ever forget the last two or three days they had been down there, his worry and his fear about his son's survival.

"But he _will_ survive, won't he?" Theodore asked, taking over where Draco had not dared asking this particular question and he locked his own dark eyes with the boy's blue ones.

"I won't promise you anything, Theodore, you do know me after all." He then answered, carefully choosing his words. "I do _believe_ that Harry will survive, yes, but I guess we all know how weak he has become in the end and his metabolism has collapsed completely. In other words – it still _could_ happen that he dies. And the same goes for a few others, what is the reason as to why I expect all of you to follow my orders to the point."

"I know, sir." Theodore nodded, his face showing that he was not happy with the answer but satisfied over having gotten an honest answer to begin with.

"Merlin, Severus!" Came a booming voice from the doorway and quickly he turned in his seat at the recognition of that voice, got off his chair and quickly strolled through the large room. "Hvordan har du det?"

"I am – as well as can be expected." He answered after a slight hesitancy truthfully while allowing the Norwegian to take him into his arms and in a bone crushing hug – in front of his students!

"As well as can be expected … I know what you originally had in your mind." The man boomed. "Severus Snape! You dare-devil! You've done a lot of crazy things in your life, but this time you definitely have managed to overdo even yourself!"

"Are you blasted imbecile implying that this has been my fault, Mr. Hrothgar?" He asked, nearly smirking at the man.

It was strange how good it felt, seeing this particular wizard now and in this situation, and he remembered his strange, melancholic emotions towards his old friend from a few days ago, wondered if that blasted man might actually have been here at Hogwarts a few days ago. Alone the fact that Hereweald had bothered coming here, never mind of back then or just now, made him feeling strangely happy.

"It hasn't been the Professor's fault!" Came an angry voice from behind, causing him to turn and look down at – Neville, of all people, the boy standing there, nearly trembling with rage, his head held high in defiance and the arms held at his side, his hands curled into tight fists. "It's been no ones fault! It just happened and the Professor has kept us alive! You better don't dare accusing …"

"Neville!" He said, trying to sound gentle while strict at the same time. He knew how timid and shy Neville normally was and for _him_ to stand up against a stranger now, and to defend his old and mean potions professor, _that_ not only must have cost him quite some will-power, but it also _did_ mean something to Snape – even though it was a bloody Gryffindor move.

Well, the infuriating Gryffindor didn't seem to be in an overly obedient mood today, as he quickly shook his head.

"No!" The blasted boy gave a growl away of which he, Severus Snape, would have been _very_ proud of, if it had not come from such an infuriating and disobedient – not to mention insufferable and imbecilic Gryffindor. "No! I won't allow this bloody …"

A moment later he had the boy effectively stopping in any ill choosing words he might have attempted by simply pulling him close and clasping his hand over the startled boy's mouth, while at the same time Hereweald was laughing in this booming way of his, angering Neville just the more.

"You better do not continue this particular sentence, Mr. Longbottom and _you_ better stop laughing Mr. Hrothgar!" He growled, but even he himself could hear that this growl wasn't really as threatening as his growling used to be. He would have to work on this before he started with his classes again. "You are not helping this situation at all, Hereweald! And you, calm yourself Neville, now!"

Well, it worked, seeing that the teen took a deep breath and then nodded.

"I'm sorry, my dear Severus." Hereweald chuckled out. "It surely hasn't been my intention to upset your student."

"Oh, shut it, you threefold blasted idiot!" The Potions Master growled at the man before looking down at the boy and slowly taking his hand from the rash Gryffindor's mouth. "Hereweald Hrothgar is a very old and a very close friend of mine and he of course did not imply that the past twenty-one days have been anyone's fault at all. He just is unable of keeping this blasted mouth of his shut and behaves in ways so one might think he would have been a bloody Gryffindor had he attended Hogwarts. So there will be no need to get overly emotional over anything he is giving away – as much as I appreciate your thoughtfulness, child."

"Sorry." Longbottom murmured, his face that lately was as pale as were the other children's faces spotting bright red cheeks for once.

"Your apology is noted, Neville." He said, giving a nod of approval. This boy was one of those children with less self-esteem after all, and he did intend on changing this. "Next time you stumble over a situation however, that is not entirely clear, I just ask you to show a bit more subtle patience and wait and watch before acting impulsively."

"Ok, sorry, sir." The boy again apologized and he once more inclined his head.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

He was sure that someone was calling his name, and he was sure that this someone seemed desperate to wake him – if he just were able to really wake! But he simply wasn't able opening his eyes.

The lids simply were too heavy and the light somehow was too bright suddenly, even through his closed lids, and he knew that it would hurt his eyes the moment he finally had managed opening them. In other words – he was in the infirmary! The question was – why? How in Merlin's name had he managed ending up in the infirmary this time – again? And who would even …

Merlin!

The potions classroom!

The last three weeks!

And last night they'd been … forcing his eyes open he couldn't help groaning the moment his prediction came true and he quickly pressed his eyes close tightly.

"Open them slowly, Harry." A deep and velvet voice beside him said while he at the same moment could feel a hand touching his brows and he flinched away for a moment – until he realized the familiarity of that particular kind of touch.

It wasn't uncle Vernon hitting him into the face but just Snape's hand shielding his eyes from the harsh light of the infirmary and he breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn't back with the Dursleys but with Snape and he was safe.

"S'ry." He sleepily murmured, feeling strangely comfortable despite the slight but unpleasant pain in his arms and legs.

Well, he had all reasons for feeling comfortable, he guessed, while slowly making another attempt of opening his eyes, considering the past few days – at least of which he remembered. His stomach felt strange but it didn't hurt do badly anymore, he felt weak and tired but he didn't feel dizzy and sick anymore, and his limbs still hurt slightly, but it weren't those painful cramps than it had been the last few days anymore. So – all in all, he guessed that he could take this as an improvement.

Not to mention that he was comforted at the knowledge that Snape was there, that he wasn't alone while waking and that still the older wizard wasn't disgusted by touching him, that he still seemed ready to make it easier for him somehow, that he had taken the time to be here when he woke as surely now, that they were free and out of the dungeons, the man would have better things to do than sitting with him, Harry.

Did this mean that the man still cared?

Did this mean that Snape still wanted him? That he still was his father? That it hadn't been a cruel game only, that had been meant to comfort them while they had been locked up and about to die anyway, just to be abandoned the moment they were out of the dungeons and their lives would go on and continue?

"Foolish child!" Snape chided and he couldn't help smiling at the older wizard's words.

Snape still called him a foolish child and the man wasn't back to calling him _"Potter"_ yet – that surely meant something, didn't it? At least it made him feeling warm and comfortable, safe and – and simply wanted. It might be Snape, greasy and snarky Snape, dungeons bat and the one teacher who handed out ninety percent of all detentions given at Hogwarts, the one teacher who took ninety percent of all points taken at Hogwarts, it was the one teacher who caused the younger students to burst into tears and the older students to simply hate him, but it also was Snape who cared about him, who had been ready to touch him without being disgusted, who had comforted him and who wanted him, who even had adopted him – and with another content sigh he leaned into the touch.

He had learned so many different sides on that man – yes, it was Snape, but it also was his father and suddenly he realized that he not only liked him, but that he actually loved him.

Severus Snape nearly breathed a sigh of relief himself when Harry – finally – woke and he didn't even care that the disobedient child didn't open his eyes at all. It was enough for him that the boy finally was awake, that he was moving, uttering one of his infuriating _'sorries'_ – and that he was still alive yet.

Feeling the pure bliss that radiated off his son and noticing the boy leaning into his touch, he shook his head, knowing that still the boy seemed to have thought he would abandon him now, now that they were free. But well – he knew the boy's line of thinking, knew a lot of things about the boy meanwhile. And in Harry's eyes it had been easy to promise something upon facing death anyway, easy to adopt a difficult teenager who wasn't worth being adopted with the knowledge that they would die anyway, that he, Snape, wouldn't have to stand for his actions later as there would be no later. And he also knew that he would have a hard time disabusing his son of that notion.

"Foolish child." He softly repeated. "Did you really think that I would abandon you now? I have adopted you, Harry. You are my son now, like it or not, and an adoption like the one we have done, using our blood to form the bond, it is not broken easily. I won't abandon any of you – and especially I will not abandon _you_. You better get this into this stubborn head of yours finally."

"But we're free now and surely you have other things to do now than sitting …" The blasted boy started, opening his eyes and looking at him with a mixture of anxiety and hope, squinting his eyes at the bright light of the infirmary and he dimmed the torches with his other hand while he kept his left one laying over the pale face, shielding the boy's eyes from the direct light.

"You better do not go on with this particular sentence, Mr. Snape." He said, wondering if he had to stop each and every bloody Gryffindor from saying something rash. "I will be back to teaching, yes, but not before the beginning of next week and you will be back to classes, but not before the beginning of next week either."

"But …"

"There will be plenty of time for discussing the changes that will be installed during the next few days and weeks, but now is not the time for that, Harry." He said, shaking his head. "You will have to take a few potions and after that I expect you to rest some more. It is late already and you should sleep through the night."

And yes – there would be a lot of changes, some of which would be welcomed and some of which he knew would be accepted with less delight.

**Flashback**

_"It won't be easy, I know, but I will manage, somehow." He quietly said, again casting a glance over the sleeping students that inhabited the infirmary since last night. "They deserve as much, Hereweald. None of them has given me a hard time even though they are just children and I am proud of them. The past few days have been hell for them and they have relied on me. I cannot simply vanish now and leave them alone now from one day to the other. The last three weeks have shaped them, who they had become and they will need further guidance now. It is not everything alright just that they are free now, they will need an adult to come and speak to who can understand them."_

_"I could help you in form of overtaking some of your head of house duties with the Slytherins as well as with teaching upper grade potions if this is amenable with you, Severus." Hereweald said. "Because I'm sure you won't manage!"_

_"I have always managed, one way or another." The Potions Master growled darkly, casting one of his nastier looks towards his friend._

_"Of course you have." The man drawled. "But what good will it do to those children if they lose you the moment you break down just because you are too stubborn admitting that you too are only human?"_

_"I won't break down, you blasted imbecile!" He hissed angrily. "And if – mind you, if – I allowed you teaching potions here, then it will be the lower grades as they cause headaches."_

_"I had thought that you would prefer teaching the fourth years yourself." The slightly older man said, frowning at him._

_"And I will, at least the Gryffindor and Slytherin fourth years." He answered. "But except of them I would prefer the NEWT classes. I will have a word with Albus about that."_

_"And your house?"_

_"They won't like it, but I guess it could be a solution – for a while." Severus slowly mused. He might not admit it, but he knew that Hereweald was right after all. He was weak and he surely wouldn't manage handling his house, classes and those seventeen students who he knew needed him desperately right now without having at least one breakdown – something he not only dreaded because he didn't wish letting them down but because of his reputation as well. "I will have a word about this with Albus as well – and I have to think about it."_

**End flashback**

"You seem to have made your nights to days, Severus!" Poppy's voice came from the doorway and he looked over at the woman, one eyebrow lifted. "I thought you all would be asleep by now and I had to wake you for your potions – yet, I find all of you wide awake."

"I am sure that we had other things on our minds than caring for the time of day, Poppy." The Potions Master scowled at the woman while Hereweald chuckled, finding the situation – again – very amusing as it seemed. "Not to mention that it is barely ten o'clock. So you better be quiet and hand out those potions of yours so that they _can_ go to sleep after having taken them."

"One should think that three weeks of imprisonment should have made you a bit more civil, Severus, but well, I guess you will never change, will you?" The medi-witch said, shaking her head and starting to hand out the potions vials she had brought on a tablet that hovered along beside her, placing the nutrient potions, muscle relaxing potions and vials of which he knew held a mixture of a calming and a mild sleeping potion at the nightstands while the children went to their respective beds to take them, shuffling their feet and eyeing the potions vials warily, knowing that they would taste disgustingly, Harry even scowling at the woman darkly and he couldn't help smirking at the image.

"Oh, you better cease your scowling, Mr. Potter, they're too important, take them like a man." The blasted woman said, already hurrying along to the next bed.

"It's Snape." Harry growled at her, his voice slow and weak but clear. A moment later however he cast an unsure and nearly scared gaze at him, Severus, clearly scared that he might have done something wrong, that he might have overstepped his boundaries with his comment and he quickly inclined his head to give his son his approval.

Poppy too actually turned back towards him with an apologetic expression on her face before she let out a long and suffering breath.

"Oh, I'm sorry, dear. I just forgot, I guess it will take me some time until I'm used to not calling you Mr. Potter after having you here under that name at least twice each year. Very well, and as for you, Severus …" she said casually as she began to line up potions on his bedside table as well.

Severus made a low growling sound in his throat and chose to respond by pushing himself to his feet, leaning heavily onto the nightstand beside Harry's bed. Surely he would not take those bloody potions that blasted woman had in mind. He was a Potions Master and he knew very well what kind of potions he would have to take and which would be unnecessary, causing Poppy to spin around and settled her hands on her hips.

"Severus Snape!" She shouted out, her voice upset, but he merely raised one eyebrow at her.

"I hope Severus hasn't been too much trouble." Hereweald chuckled. "You know, his bark is worse than his bite."

"Yes, yes, he's always a bit harsher when he's under the weather." Poppy responded as if Severus were not there. "I let it go in one ear and out the other."

"And I _am_ in the room." Severus spoke up, glaring at the Norwegian first and at the medi-witch a moment later – without success however and he wished he could glare a bit more menacingly, but he was actually getting tired from standing there only these few minutes. However, he never would let Poppy see that she was right, the blasted woman already knew that she was and there was no need to give her further confirmation.

"No wonder Harry is becoming so stubborn!" Poppy accused. "The adoption surely has transferred some of your characteristics towards him while he at the same time had enough time to learn from you too! Well – do not blame me if you are worse off in a few days young man!" She scolded, waving a finger in Severus' face.

Severus had to stop himself from smiling at the idea that anyone would attribute Harry's characteristics to him – or his to Harry. It was the kind of comparison one would make between a father and son and – stubborn or not, it made him feeling calm and extremely proud, it made him feeling warm.

"You better keep your finger out of my face, woman, lest you wish losing it for being used as one of my potions ingredients!" He growled to cover his emotions. "Did no one ever teach you that one should _not_ point with a naked finger at dressed people?"

"Dad?" Came Harry's small voice from the bed and he looked over at the boy. "Please?"

Well, this seemed to be his undoing – like so often lately – and with a long and suffering sigh he sat down onto the bed, taking the boy into his arms while he leaned back at the headboard, his left foot laying on the mattress while his right one touched the ground.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" He growled darkly while summoning the vials Poppy had placed onto the nightstand beside his bed.

"That has been necessary now, hasn't it, Severus?" Poppy asked with a scowl of her own and he smirked at her, knowing that she spoke of him doing magic after she had forbidden them such for the first three days upon their arrival here at the hospital wing – which weren't up yet.

"Of course, woman!" He answered. "One has to make sure that you won't get too bossy after all."

"Oh, for crying out loud, Severus, just take those potions now!" Poppy cried, throwing her hands up into the air in mocked desperation. "You always complain at first and then take them anyway!"

She watched him with a pointed look at the potions vials for the children and a raised eyebrow and glancing down at the boy he still held in his arms, at his son, noticing the sharp observation of the green eyes, he shrugged in defeat and swallowed the vile vial straight down in one shuddering swallow. And just as Poppy had predicted – he stopped complaining after the first potion he was presented with in front of the children and downed the next one and finally the third.

He was meant to be an example for the children after all – and well, it seemed to work, as they too – just like in the morning and in the afternoon – took the vials and downed them. But well, he simply couldn't help, he had to make a fuss over taking them, just to annoy Poppy for a bit, he guessed.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"You should go to sleep finally." He softly said, running his fingers over the boy's face and brushing a stray strand of hair from the pale face. "It is late already and you need your rest."

"Can't." The brat murmured and he immediately knew that Harry was tired but was bothered by something at the same time.

"What is it, you foolish child?" He asked, shifting the smaller body in his arms so that he could cradle the boy's body more comfortably.

"Nothing …" The blasted boy answered, shrugging his shoulders, trying to sound callously while actually looking lost.

"Harry!" He scowled at the teen. "Speak to me!"

"'M tired." The boy answered, softly and slowly. "But it's comfy here."

"It will be comfortable tomorrow still." The Potions Master said, frowning at the boy's choice of words. It only proved of how tired the boy actually was as he had indeed learned over the past three weeks that Harry was able using eloquent language. "Just close your eyes and sleep, child."

"You are not going to go away while I am asleep, are you?" Harry asked, his voice small and again Severus frowned. Of course he would be here, silly child! A bloody Gryffindor at some times, ready to face the Dark Lord, basilisks and dragons, but like a small child at other times, afraid that he would be left alone by him, Snape.

"I will be here the moment you wake up." He promised, unable of keeping himself from cupping the boy's face with his hand and pulling him closer even.

"Thank you …" The imbecile murmured sleepily while again leaning into the touch. "'M sorry 'm so much trouble."

"Hush, you foolish child!" He gently chided. "You are nothing I cannot handle. And now rest, close your eyes and sleep."

break ... ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ... line

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued<strong>

**Next time in A few days more**

_About the foolishness and bravery of the twins and about the confusion of one lion_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too, thank you …

**House cup: **

At the present time it looks like this:

708 - Gryffindor - Head of House: Catlady

701 - Slytherin - Head of House: evil minded

576 - Ravenclaw - Head of House: Arithmancy Master

340 - Hufflepuff - Head of House: still a free post


	2. twins and other children

**Title:**

A few days more

Sequel to twenty-one days

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Fourth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

"A few days more" is the sequel to "Twenty-one days" – read and review this first or you wouldn't understand all that happens in this story.

The fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindors have survived their imprisonment in the potions classroom situated in the dungeons. How will they go on in all-day life after their survival? How will they manage to reintegrate into the castle's routine and their classes? How will they be able to go back to life at all? Watch how those who survived fight for their lives and for their peace, for their place in the community at Hogwarts.

**Disclaimer: **

Did you see Severus alive at the end of _'The deathly hallows'_? no?

Do you think I would have had him died if I had written those books? no?

Then you know that _'Harry Potter'_ does not belong to me … nor does Severus … regrettably … he belongs to J. K. Rowling …

But Hereweald Hrothgar does …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Warning:**

Story contains references to child abuse.

Child-abuse is a really serious thing, it is an evil thing and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help without being helped, and closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist, is no solution …

I only say - remind yourself of your feelings, of your sympathy, and of your understanding … and handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once being abused … with understanding and with help …

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me - I am …

* * *

><p>break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line<p>

**Previously in A few days more**

_"You are not going to go away while I am asleep, are you?" Harry asked, his voice small and again Severus frowned. Of course he would be here, silly child! A bloody Gryffindor at some times, ready to face the Dark Lord, basilisks and dragons, but like a small child at other times, afraid that he would be left alone by him, Snape._

_"I will be here the moment you wake up." He promised, unable of keeping himself from cupping the boy's face with his hand and pulling him closer even._

_"Thank you …" The imbecile murmured sleepily while again leaning into the touch. "'M sorry 'm so much trouble."_

_"Hush, you foolish child!" He gently chided. "You are nothing I cannot handle. And now rest, close your eyes and sleep."_

**A few days more**

**Chapter two **

**Day two – twenty-forth of September – Tuesday night**

**Twins and other children**

It really was time to have a word with two particularly identical Weasley boys and seeing that the children were asleep, especially Harry, it was the perfect opportunity, even if it was in the middle of the night.

For a moment he frowned.

A month ago surely he never would have considered going into the lion's den and definitely not in the middle of the night. The Students had to sleep during the night and they were not to be disturbed. And yet – he had to talk to those two and he had to do so without any other student noticing as the headmaster had kept their survival secret so far. And understandably so, he couldn't help thinking.

He could very well imagine what would happen the moment the students and parents learned of their survival and of them being free right now. Not only would hell break loose amongst them, but they also would storm the hospital wing, startling and maybe even frightening the seventeen students that were his, unsettling them and maybe even getting some of them into a panic, and that was the last thing the children in here needed. They needed their peace for a bit longer and they needed to be returned to the crowd slowly, especially Harry and Theodore. They needed to be prepared for the onslaught of students wishing to visit them and he even had considered keeping Harry and Theodore in his quarters for a few days more after the others had returned to their houses and classes, to allow them a few days more of peace before he got them to classes one by one.

Casting an alarm over the hospital wing that would alert him the moment one of the students woke he quietly opened the door and slipped out into the corridor, a black shadow that soundlessly glided along the stone walls, unseen and unheard. He glided up the stairs that led to Minerva's tower and then along another corridor that would lead to the Gryffindor common room. Wordlessly he held his hand at the door, ignoring the fat lady and asking the castle instead for information about anyone inside awake still.

He was a head of a house after all and not unlike the headmaster he too was able communicating with the castle. Not to the extent the headmaster could, but to _some_ extent after all and he immediately knew that the common room was empty except for two persons that were sleeping in front of the fire, the Weasley twins, and quietly he entered, satisfied with the fact that he would not have to go up to the sixth year dormitory what surely would have alerted Minerva.

He, Severus Snape, head of Slytherin, _he_ was after all alerted if anyone attempted entering the Slytherin dormitories during the night and he only could guess that Minerva had placed similar alarms on the dormitories of her lions.

Closing the door he looked around the offending red and golden room before slipping over to the large sofa that stood in front of the fireplace. He stood there for another moment, looking down at the two idiot boys which were sleeping with their limbs entangled into each others and for a moment he wondered how it was, being a twin, being so close to each other that they didn't mind sleeping entangled like this, and he only could be glad that it had not been them being separated for those three weeks.

Quietly he knelt down in front of the sofa and placed a hand on Frederic Weasley's shoulder. He was sure that it was Frederic Weasley, even though the boy was sleeping with his back to him, because the other boy who had his face turned towards him had a small scar just in front of his ear and therefore was George Weasley. Barely anyone noticed this small scar and so most people were played with by them, but _he_ had soon learned about that scar and – well, they couldn't mess around with _him_.

"Mr. Weasley." He softly said, gently shaking the boy awake and just like his younger brother whom he'd had down in the dungeons for three weeks, the teen tried to turn around and go on sleeping. "Wake up, Mr. Weasley." He said. "I would like having a word with you."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Fred could feel someone shaking his shoulder and he could hear a deep and velvet voice calling him awake but Merlin! It had been late last night – again – and he hadn't slept really well lately. In fact, he had slept really miserable lately, as had George, and the _last_ thing he right now, now that he was sleeping for once, wanted – was to wake up.

But the hand on his shoulder didn't stop shaking him and the voice that tried calling him awake got more insisting, and slowly he got awake, aware that he should know that voice. Taking a deep breath he listened while forcing his eyes open – something that only worked very slowly.

Merlin, it surely couldn't be already time for classes, could it now? It surely had to be in the middle of the night, because there was absolutely no one else around aside from that deep and velvet voice, no happy chatter, no laughing or screaming, nor any objects hitting a wall or the floor and last but not least – it still was dark except for the fire in the mantelpiece.

"If you do not wish detention for the remainder of this term you better get fully awake, Mr. Weasley, _now_." He heard Snape's voice and by now he was sure that it indeed _was_ Snape. Because no one could use _that_ tone with _that_ threat in _that_ voice in a way like Snape did and quickly he sat up, rubbing his eyes.

"Professor Snape!" He called out the moment the black flurry ball became more clear and turned into a thin and pale face surrounded by black hair.

"Quiet, Mr. Weasley." Snape said, holding his finger at his lips to signal him – he should be silent.

What in Merlin's name was going on? What was Snape … and did this mean that … but no one had … and …

"Calm down, Mr. Weasley." Snape said and he looked up into the dark eyes of the Potions Master, noticing them laying deeper in the pale and thin face than they should, the professor clearly not looking well.

"Is it really you, sir?" He couldn't help asking, nearly extending his hand to touch the teacher, to make sure that he was real and not a ghost, because if he was a ghost, if he … that surely meant that Ron too …

What was Snape doing here anyway? If Snape came up here, and in the middle of the night no less, then surely that meant … but why would not McGonagall inform them of Ron being … how …

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

He was alone. Alone in someplace he didn't know where it was and it was dark and silent. Fear engulfed him, rising from moment to moment, overwhelming him, swallowing him.

Sitting up in his bed he tried to look around in the darkness, noticing that he at least wasn't in the dungeons anymore, he knew that. It smelled differently and it wasn't cold enough for that. He also thought he remembered Professor Snape telling him that they were free. He wasn't really sure about _that_ however. But where was he now, if he wasn't in the dungeons anymore? And where were the others? Where was Professor Snape? And Draco? Neville? Theodore? Where was everyone else?

Snape had promised that he wouldn't leave him alone and that he would … and now he wasn't here, he wasn't …

Determined to figure out where exactly he was, Harry swung his legs out of his bed and then slipped down the side of the mattress until his feet touched the cold floor, noticing that the floor didn't feel like the stony floor down there in the dungeons either, and upon shaky legs he started walking along the length of the ward. It wasn't long but in Harry's weak state, he felt like he was running miles, gritting his teeth at the cold beneath his bare feet.

If only he could find Snape! If only Snape was alright! Why wasn't Snape here with them?

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Yes, it is me, Mr. Weasley and no, I am not here because of your brother." He growled, knowing what the boy believed the moment his eyes went large with panic. "Your brother is in the hospital wing and except of hungry and tired – rather well and very much alive. I am however here to have a word with the two of you. If you were so kind as to waking your brother."

"Now?" The idiot boy asked and he sighed.

"Surely I have not come up here in the middle of the night to watch you sleeping." He said while getting to his feet and sitting down into one of the armchairs near the sofa, pointing at George Weasley and Frederic Weasley nodded while extending his hand and shaking his brother awake, immediately signalling the other boy that he too should stay silent while he nearly snickered at the large eyes his twin made. Well, maybe he should inform him about the little fact that the other boy too had looked just as idiotic.

Well, a moment later he finally had both boys' full attention and he gave a nod of approval.

"Very well, Misters Weasley." He said. "Would you be as kind as getting your third year potions notebooks?" He could see them exchanging worried looks and he guessed he knew why exactly they were so worried. A moment later both of them shook their heads.

"We've only the notebooks …"

"From this year with us …"

"Very well then, would you please be as kind as getting your potions notebooks from this year?" He asked lifting his eyebrow and Frederic Weasley got off the sofa and quickly but quietly went up the stairs to his dormitory.

"Is Ron alright?" George asked and he inclined his head.

"Yes, Mr. Weasley." He answered this twin as well as he had answered the unspoken question from the other twin just moments before. "Your brother is in the hospital wing and except of being hungry and tired – rather well and very much alive."

"Thank you." Weasley said, taking a deep breath and he actually could see some of the strain and tiredness falling off the boy, as if a heavy load had been taken off his shoulders.

"You are welcome." He softly said. "It is however important that you do _not_ storm off to the infirmary first thing tomorrow. They all still need rest and peace, they have to come back to the routine of the castle slowly and I expect you to _not_ tell everyone – _anyone_ – about our survival. I will allow the both of you down in the infirmary tomorrow morning, but you won't tell anyone else. Your parents will be notified by Professor McGonagall soon, as will your sister, and then they can visit your brother as well – until then, I expect you to keep this information secret."

The boy nodded, surely satisfied with at least having gotten this bit of information.

A moment later Frederic Weasley was back, handing him both of their potions notebooks and he took them, casting a quick glance at them and then reaching Frederic's notebook back. It was George's potions notebook he needed. Opening it and skimming through the few – through the _very_ few – entries, through the few entries that even were only random thoughts of the boy about one potion or another and not any notes he could have taken in class, he went to the last one.

He lifted his eyebrow at the twins.

"Is this all you have covered in potions since the start of this term?" He then asked, his voice clearly a growl and he was glad that he still was able giving away one. As it seemed – Harry had not made an _entirely_ soft fool out of him yet.

Both twins nodded at him, looking worried and with another growl he looked back down at the notebook, reading that last entry George Weasley had done.

'_Potions – imagine it being a class, and no one attends._

_Couldn't be any different than it's now as it's potions, but Snape's not here and no one's paying attention anymore. 'Cause Slug's not Snape. Snape's been unfair, always preferring his snakes, yes, but he'd never given unfair grades and the marks we've gotten from Snape's been ones we'd deserved._

_But not the marks Slug gives. They, whose parents have been in the order, who're famous or have money – they get good marks and the others get bad marks. It's disgusting, that entire man is disgusting with his display of favouritism towards fame and prominence or good looks and money! Even the Slytherins say so, they too want Snape back. As do I and as does Gred!_

_Well, I guess the saying applies – you only know what you have, the moment you've lost it._

_Merlin! Just take the outstanding Gred got from Slug yesterday. It's not even been an exceed expectations but a rather poor acceptable and that's the mark he'd gotten from Snape for his draught of peace, an acceptable, but definitely not an outstanding and surely not an exceed expectations even._

_At least Snape's been intelligent and he's had a sense of humour, even if a rotten one – where Slug's just a stupid idiot without any sense of humour at all. And Snape at least had cared about us where Slug never comes close a cauldron that's about to explode, even if there's a student beside that cauldron. Jordan's been in the infirmary because of Slug being too cowardice to pull him away like Snape would've done – even if taking points and giving detention afterwards. _

_Snape's been harsher than Slug, but fairer and definitely the better teacher! He's kept us safe!'_

Without commenting what he had just read he cast a quick glance at George Weasley, his dark eyes nearly piercing the boy who started squirming while his face blushed under his stare, before he got out his wand, pointed it at the page he had open right now.

"Reveal the words written in this notebook during third year." He said, willing the words on the pages to change and a moment later the parchments seemed much older and crumpled, stained and the notebook was nearly filled to the last page. Knowing what to search for he again skimmed through the notebook until he had found the entry and then reached the book at George Weasley, not leaving an eye from the boy.

"Read what is written there, Mr. Weasley." He calmly said.

Well, the sixth year Gryffindor looked at him for a moment before looking down at the notebook, his eyes growing large before casting another quick glance at him and he signalled the boy to – yes, go ahead and read what is written there.

_"This won't work, Mr. Weasley, as the aconite would not react with the asphodel."_ The boy read and he gave an encouraging nod so the teen might go on reading. _"No, but with the erumpent horn."_ He went on and he lifted his eyebrow at the boy when he cast another quick glance at him.

"Go on, Mr. Weasley." He said, calmly, and the boy took a deep breath before looking back down at the notebook he still held in his hand.

_"Dare to get caught by me brewing an exploding fluid while being at Hogwarts and you will serve detention for the remainder of this school year, loosing body parts one by one each detention for being used as potions ingredients. I am in need of a few fingers right now, just to begin with."_ The boy finally finished the entry concerning an exploding fluid.

"Any information you would like to share with your Potions Master, Misters Weasley?" He then asked, knowing exactly what kind of exploding fluid they had brewed to try and get the dungeons exploded – and successfully so, or at least Harry would not be alive anymore at the present time.

"Uhm … sir, we …" The teen started, looking over at his brother for a moment.

"Yes, Mr. Weasley?" He asked, lifting his eyebrow at the boy.

"Well, we have brewed exactly this kind of exploding fluid, sir." The boy then said.

"By using aconite with the erumpent horn." His brother then added, maybe just out of loyally.

"Despite my explicit warning two years ago." He stated while glaring at the twins. "Very well, Misters Weasley. Despite the little fact that you have managed saving not only your classmates' lives, but mine as well – and most _importantly_ – my son's life, for what you have my sincere thanks and for what I will stand in both your depths with my life – you both will now suffer the consequences of your actions. You both will serve your time until your _graduation_ down in my laboratory twice a week on Tuesday and Thursday evenings for your apprenticeship I already last year have offered to you. You have reached your NEWTs by now and so I expect you in my laboratory Thursday evening – do _not_ be late!"

"But …"

"Surely you don't …"

"What do you mean with …"

"Your son's life …"

"Sure you can handle us tomorrow already?"

"You don't look so well …"

"If I can handle one of your intolerable, insufferable and infuriating housemates becoming my son – just so to answer your question – and living with him and seven more of you Gryffindors together with nine of my Slytherins for three weeks locked down in the dungeons classroom – then I surely will be able managing the two of you for two hours tomorrow evening. Seven o'clock sharp. And do _not_ be late."

"You really …"

"But that's …"

"Thank you …"

"Just go back to sleep, Misters Weasley." He said, reaching into the pocket of his cloak and pulling out two vials which he reached over to the twins, at the same time feeling the slight tingling crawling his skin that told him – the wards he had set on the infirmary were breached, meaning that one of his students had woken. "And as I already knew that you would not find yourself being able to go back to sleep after this particular talk, I have brought you dreamless sleep – the infirmary luckily is stacked to my satisfaction after all. Go back to sleep, I will see you tomorrow morning after breakfast in front of the infirmary."

And with those words he left the Gryffindor common room, leaving behind two stunned lions while he hurried down to the infirmary to have a look on another lion, one that has become his son and that was out of bed by now.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

He couldn't help his breath coming out as a sob every now and then, he simply couldn't help it!

He knew meanwhile that he _definitely_ was in the hospital wing. All the other beds told him enough, but he didn't understand why they were empty, why he was alone here. The others had been with him and now he was alone! They had been there just a moment ago, just before he'd fallen asleep, just before he'd gone to bed an hour or so ago! He was _sure_ of that! They had _been there_!

But they weren't there anymore. He was alone now. None of them was there, not Draco, not Neville, not Theodore and not Hermione, not even Ron was here. They all were gone. But the worst was that Snape too was gone. Snape too had been there just before he had fallen asleep and he had promised that – no, that had been the night _before_, he remembered, or at least he thought so. It had been the night before, Snape promising him that he would be there when he woke, that he would go no where while he was sleeping. But he'd been there tonight too, and now …

Seeing a black clad figure laying in one of the beds near the double winged doors of the infirmary he stopped mid-step for a moment, barely daring to breathe. He knew this figure. There was just one wizard within this castle who was as black clad and dark, with long black hair, and … there was just one Snape here and this Snape was laying in this bed over there! And he was laying still and he was looking so pale and …

Horrified Harry dived forwards, his knees nearly buckling beneath him while he stared at the body of the one man he had come to care for most in the world, of the only one who cared about him, Harry, and his head was reeling. He wasn't dead, was he? He wouldn't be breathing if he were dead, would he? But why didn't he wake up then? What … was he trapped in a coma maybe? Would he ever wake up? Would he be alright? But why would he even be in a coma to begin with? What might have happened since he last had seen the man?

If he didn't … if he now died … Harry shook his head. He had to be alive! Because he wouldn't be able surviving either if Snape had died! How could he survive if the only person who kept him tall was gone? And so soon after he had become his father no less? So soon after he had … how could he … he knew that he wouldn't be able to go on without Snape. He had survived only because of Snape and he wouldn't be able going on without him now … he wouldn't …

"Take a deep breath, Harry, and calm down." The calm voice of the man that had become so important to him echoed within his head and he closed his eyes, concentrating. He nearly could feel the man standing behind him, pulling him close until he rested against his father's strong chest, feeling Snape's hand on his forehead and pulling his head close until it rested on the older wizard's shoulder, and hitching another breath he couldn't help the tears running down his face. Another moment later he could feel Snape's thumb running over his face and wiping them away.

"What are you doing awake, Harry?" Severus softly asked, turning the boy in his grip after realizing that they were standing in front of the bed Hereweald had chosen to claim for himself until he had his own quarters and slowly he began to understand. "You have been asleep – or halfway asleep – whenever this blasted idiot over there has shown up his ugly face and no one has introduced him to you so far." He started explaining. "Therefore you do not know Mr. Hereweald Hrothgar, a close and old friend of mine who has decided to claim this bed as his until he has been supplied with a set of rooms for his own here at Hogwarts as he is overtaking some potions classes for the time being. He might look like me, but he is not me. I am very much alive, luckily so, as is Hereweald. This imbecile is indestructible."

"I thought …" The boy gasped, looking up at him with those large green eyes of his in a face that looked like death itself, looking back at the still sleeping form of Hereweald before looking up at him again. "And everyone's gone and …"

"There is no reason for you to feel alone, Harry." He calmly said, understanding the remainder of the situation as well now. "No one is dead and no one has left. I take it that you have been confused upon waking and have left the room we originally have been in. You are in the part of the infirmary that is well-known by you, seeing that you practically have booked a bed with your name on it in here each school year. We have been however placed in the private room behind this one. Come." He then said, his hand still on his son's shoulder and leading him along the aisle and through another door, the one that would lead to the chamber they occupied at the present time.

He led the boy to his own bed, feeling the relief the boy felt upon seeing all his classmates laying in their respective beds and then he gently shoved him down until he laid on his own mattress, shaking his head at the boy wearing neither shoes nor socks. Merlin – the boy was already cold enough all the time and he already shivered enough all the time. He didn't need the boy even colder because he were wearing neither socks nor shoes. He would have to have a word with the child about such things. Quickly he pulled the blanket over his son, covering the boy before reaching out and brushing strands of black hair from the pale face.

"I do not approve of you wearing neither shoes nor socks while being out of bed, Harry." He quietly said. "You are far from being healthy, child. You have been so close to death – I do not wish to lose you now, after all of this is over and we all actually have a chance."

"But I'm better." The boy said, his voice clearly showing that he did not understand why he, Severus, was so worried. Moonlight still spilled through the infirmary windows and the Potions Master peered at his son closely.

"Do you truly feel better?" He asked, knowing fully well that Harry tended to downplay his own troubles. But he simply _needed_ to know that the boy indeed was recovering. This was not a game and this was not a matter of pride or sparing ones feelings. This was still a matter of life or death and while he knew that it would take the boy a long time until he really had recovered from all that fate had thrown at him during the past years – for all his life actually – he just wanted to know if the boy at least _felt_ better.

"I do." The boy said. "I'm just … I've just been startled. I thought …"

"You thought that Hereweald was me and you feared I were dead, right?" He asked and Harry nodded slowly, his cheeks blushing a bit, again giving the otherwise so pale face a welcoming bit of colour. "When you woke, I take it you have not been awake fully and while you – in your half-awake state – did not know where you were, you have left the private room and entered the main room that was so well-known to you that you would recognize it in your sleep. You took this for the room you should be in together with all the others who however suddenly were missing. The emotions you at this moment received caused you to getting confused and therefore easily mistaking Hereweald for my person as he does look a lot like me. You are a horrible person with emotions, Mr. Snape. You simply have been confused, you are not alone, and you never ever again will be. Remember that."

"But you'll be gone one day." The boy whispered. "Like everyone else."

"I am not able to predict the future, Harry, but I have no intention of leaving you behind alone." He calmly said, again understanding. "And neither had your parents. Lily and James died protecting you because they loved you, not because they wished to leave you behind. They wanted _you_ to survive and to live. The Dursleys never knew what they missed while neglecting you and while mistreating you in such a horrible way. They never learned to know you, but I guess it is a mutual feeling here. While I wished that they had treated you better, you surely did not miss anything concerning them either as it is not important knowing people who are able hurting a child like they have done. And the … Black, he did not leave you. He had to go into hiding, but he is still here and as much as I – do not like that man, I will not keep him from you. He is your godfather and he will stay your godfather – even if I am inclined allotting a second one, just in case. You are too important to me than leaving you in the care of only _one_ godfather –" – _'whom I do not trust.'_ He thought, not adding his thought aloud.

"I'm really?" Harry asked, barely able to keep breathing steadily.

"Of course, you foolish child." Snape growled at him and he couldn't help smiling like an idiot at that growl. "What do you think – Merlin! Do you know how scared I have been for you at the end of our stay in the potions classroom? I do not know if I had been able going on if you had died, you foolish child! You –" The man that had become his father then stopped abruptly, glaring at him and he was sure that there had been something he had wanted to say before changing his mind about it. "And now go back to sleep, impertinent brat." The older wizard, his father, growled, but he knew Snape by now and he knew that he only acted like the git, that he just acted to hide his true emotions, that he didn't really mean it.

Snape shoved him down until he lay and then the man covered him with the blanket, even ran his hand through his hair, and he felt like singing and dancing and jumping out of bed and throwing his arms around Snape. Snape was scared for him! Snape cared if he lived or died! Snape cared about him! Snape even went through choosing another godfather for him! He would take ten thousand beatings and he would endure two month without anything to eat at all and being locked in his cupboard – but Snape cared about him still!

"Next time you worry about my health however, you will wear socks at least and shoes if possible or you will find yourself in detention for the remainder of this term – never mind me being alive or not." He heard Snape growling while the man got ready for bed himself.

"Sorry." He said. "I've just …" But Snape held up a hand and he fell silent.

"Do not apologize for your hero complex." His father then said. "I am beginning to fear that it is too late to change that. You will rush into bloody _everything_ to keep people who are close to you safe, regardless of what you are told – and regardless of your own safety – or your life."

"I'm Sorry." He said, startled of hearing his professor swearing.

"You are not." Snape growled while sitting down at the edge of his own bed, wearing already a pyjama that was – how could it be otherwise – black and sorting out his bedding. "But it does not matter. You and that big, golden heart of yours, wanting to rescue everyone, as much as I should, I am not able being angry at you for that."

"Stop it, please." The teen said, averting his eyes, and again the Potions Master was reminded at how shy and timid Harry actually was, not the arrogant snot he always had believed but a child that even blushed if someone just told him that he was alright because he had learned differently for his entire life until he himself had believed it. How wrong he had done to this child, he thought while laying down and pulling up the blanket.

"You might not believe it, Harry, not now at least, but you _are_ a good child." He softly said before turning around and closing his eyes, hoping that the idiot child would just accept it without further contradictions.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Harry watched Severus closely until the older man visibly relaxed, wondering how it was that Snape was always as tense as was he, Harry. Was it because the man was a spy and always had to make sure he wasn't discovered? Or because of his reputation and so many people not liking him? Snape's breathing evening out told him that the man was asleep and quickly he snuck out of his own bed, snuck over to the bed the Potions Master slept in.

He stood there for a moment, looking at the man, before he shyly extended his hand and ran his fingers over the man's pale face, brushing strands of black hair away and with a smile he noticed that – now, in sleep, the dark wizard looked so peaceful and so relaxed, much younger than he normally looked.

"Thanks, dad." He whispered. "And I'm glad that you're ok too."

For a moment he considered slipping beneath the blanket and snuggling close to the Potions Master like he would have done down there, in the dungeons, but then he just tucked the covers around the man's shoulders before he climbed back into his own bed. They weren't locked up down there in the potions classroom anymore, they were well and on their way of recovery, they wouldn't die and so – there was no need to seek out that bit of comfort anymore, was it?

He instead sat in his bed, not ready to go back to sleep and continued looking at the man sleeping peacefully beside him, silently echoing the vigil the man had kept over him during the last days – while he _wished_ he were back down in the potions classroom – just so that he could sneak close to his father for that bit of comfort.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

The next thing he realized was a heavy weight draped over his waist and something behind him moving in a regular rhythm against his back and even if he didn't remember when and how he had fallen asleep – he immediately knew that he wasn't laying in his own bed anymore but in Snape's, his back leaning against the Potions Master's chest, while the man's arm must have pulled him close at one or another point during the night.

With a very satisfied sigh he snuggled closer into the man's embrace, Snape tightening his hold on him for a moment without really waking up either.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

A silent shadow glided up the stairs, keeping in the shadows of the walls and just as soundlessly it glided through the corridors, again – along the walls, stopping every now and then before leaving them to cross a hallway before again disappearing in the shadows of another corridor and along the walls.

A moment later one part of the double winged doors that led into the infirmary opened for a small gap and the shadow slipped through before just as silently closing the door and disappearing between other shadows that were caused by the moonlight shining through the high windows along the walls in the hospital wing and the furniture.

Another moment later the next door was opened and again the shadow slipped through the small gap before soundlessly closing the door, slipping through the dark space that was only partly lit by the soft moonlight and the soft flames of the fire that kept the large room overly warm.

The shadow stopped for a moment, taking in the beds that were lined up along two walls, standing close to each other, closer than would have been necessary. The shadow also took in the large table that stood in the midst of the room and the chairs scattered around the table, the book bags and the parchments, quills and ink bottles on one shelf to the right of the fireplace, the books being placed there.

But one spot in the room caught his eyes and held them then – one of the beds and the black clad form laying in it, cradling another form in a pair of green pyjamas to his chest and slowly he stepped closer, watching the two pale faces that were illuminated by the soft moonlight, one pale face that was the Potions Master's, Snape's, pale and thin with dark circles beneath the eyes and black strands of hair falling into the face that was lined with worry. The other pale face was smaller, surrounded by a mop of black hair that made the bony and pale face just the more ghost-like.

He immediately knew that it was Potter, the Potions Master was cradling to his chest, as startling as this was to begin with, but he only knew that it was Potter because of the scar that was standing out grotesquely in the pale face. Otherwise this face was barely recognizable as Potter's, so thin that he for a moment thought that the Gryffindor was dead, only skin being stretched over bones without any muscles between, and with eyes that lay deep within the skull, dark circles surrounding them.

He wasn't sure what to do for a moment.

He had heard Pomfrey talking to Marcus about them being in the hospital wing when she'd been in the Slytherin common room to have a look at some of them, _him_ included, something that he had hated so far as the only thing he had wanted had been being left alone, and he had heard her telling Marcus that he were to keep this information secret until further notice, never mind what, that soon they all were to be informed but that until then they all needed rest and peace and surely not the students storming into the hospital wing.

So he had not minded her being there and poking him and annoying him with questions and telling him that he had to eat more while all he wanted was going to sleep and to forget anything until he had to wake up and go to his classes. That had been all he had been doing after all, sleeping and going to classes and he hadn't even bothered with any homework, after classes he had gone to his dorm straight and he had gone to bed, immediately falling asleep, even if he knew that it was anything else than a peaceful sleep. He hadn't cared about that, as long as he hadn't had to think. This afternoon however he'd been sure that he wouldn't be able to sleep and for once he hadn't minded Pomfrey being there, had only waited until the woman had left and then he had started planning.

But now – Severus was cradling Potter? And in such a protective way no less?

But on the other hand – he personally knew what could come of people in some circumstances and so he didn't question it as surely none of the other Slytherins here had questioned it either.

And nevertheless – he had hoped that maybe …

Releasing a sigh and slumping his shoulders the boy cast one last and longing look at the Potions Master and then turned, taking comfort in the thought that at least his head of house was alive still. He just had hoped …

A moment later a pale and thin but strong hand had grabbed his wrist, stopping him from leaving and startling him until he realized that it was his head of house holding him in place and he wondered how long the man was awake to witness his emotions that surely had been displayed on his own face. Dark eyes met his, and he couldn't help smiling with relief and hope. A moment later he was pulled close while an arm was draped over his shoulder and a hand ran through his hair.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

She was sure that there had been movement and leaving her office she cast a quick glance through the infirmary, frowning, before going back into the small room she just had come from, returning to her work of going through the medical files of those she had in the private chamber behind the infirmary at the moment, reading through those files, adding information and thinking of any further treatments, even considering St. Mungo's with a few of them, Harry included. She easily could get a healer over for them twice a week for some time, it wouldn't be the first time after all.

On the other hand – she knew that Severus surely wouldn't be too pleased about her suggestion. Not that he would mind working together with them, he often was working at St. Mungo's during the holidays himself after all but she knew that Severus would not trust anyone else except of himself with the health of one of his snakes.

And the lions now, she thought, especially his son.

For a moment she couldn't help shaking her head.

She had been startled more than once since they had found them two nights ago. First they had learned that Severus had gotten along with all of them, even with the Gryffindors and with Harry in particular. Then they had learned that Severus actually had _adopted_ Harry, that he had given him his name even and that Harry was happy with this. And then Severus had told her about the abuse Harry had been forced to endure at the hands of his relatives for so long.

Then the resilience of all those children, their way of joking with each other, of playing games and despite of how weak they surely still felt, despite that she had not allowed them too much food during one meal but small portions throughout several meals during the days – and nevertheless they joked around, they kept themselves busy and they – they lived. They lived in a very special way and she didn't know how this had come. She had been so sure that most of them would be devasted, would suffer from emotional breakdowns most of the time, that they would be close to snapping, to anything but this calm cooperation.

Sighing she placed the file she had worked on aside and ran her hand over her eyes for a moment. She was tired beyond what she ever had felt.

At first all the worrying for three weeks while they had been locked up in the potions classroom, brewing potions nearly day and night so that she would have all she needed encase that they were found alive as she clearly didn't know what state they would be in. And honestly, she was no Potions Mistress but only a simple medi-witch, she had no education in potions like the healers and she therefore was rather slow in her brewing. Not to mention that she didn't have even enough practice, seeing that Severus normally did all the brewing at Hogwarts, not only for his classes but to stock the infirmary as well.

Then the – _bit_ of magic they had done to get down the wards while the exploding fluid Filius had presented them with had detonated. It hadn't been too easy. The castle somehow had been so confused, she had kept her doors locked despite her knowledge of their suffering, sure that she had to keep them safe – whatever from.

And then – nearly three days of caring for eighteen people that had learned independence and allowing dependence at the same time, children that clearly respected her but listened to Severus only now. So it wasn't exactly easy to handle them at the present time, but she definitely could understand them. Severus had kept them alive and sane and he had cared for them, had been there for them, the only adult that had been there for them, who had gotten them through hell – of course they listened to him alone right now. But it was a bit unnerving, them always looking at Severus for confirmation upon each potion or order she gave them.

At least the normally so stubborn and independent Potions Master didn't make it any harder for her – except for the shock when he had stayed in the infirmary from the beginning on, by free will no less and without her having to suggest or order his stay even. Of course he didn't stay in bed, that man never did after all, but he was here, spending a large amount of time sitting on Harry's bed and simply holding his son while the boy slept, or he was talking to all of the children while they sat together on comfortable armchairs or their beds, he was sitting with them at the table Albus had conjured, having their meals.

It was as if the man had changed completely. Never before would he have stayed in the infirmary by free will and it was clear that he was doing so now for the sake of those children alone. He had adopted a child, and a Gryffindor no less, Harry Potter, now Snape, he was –

Yes, somehow it was as if they never had left the dungeons classroom, because they were living together still, and even Severus was living with those children while they were living with him – for them, it was as if they never had left the dungeons classroom they had been locked up in.

It was the only explanation she had at the present time.

When Poppy entered the private room of the infirmary an hour later, she nearly gasped at the picture that greeted her and she remembered the movement she had caught in the corner of her eyes earlier in the night.

There, in the corner to her left where Harry's and Severus' beds should be standing with a bedside table between, there they were shoved together, surely Severus having summoned the boy's bed over, and atop the now large double bed were laying one Potions Master, his arm draped over one Harry Snape and his hand laying on the shoulder of one Adrian Pucey, the boy apparently having sneaked into the infirmary secretly.

An evil smirk spreading over her face she went back into her office and just a moment later came back with a camera.

break ... ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ... line

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued<strong>

**Next time in A few days more**

__How to add to a group of children and how to handle what is thrown your way__

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too, thank you …

**House cup: **

At the present time it looks like this:

708 - Gryffindor - Head of House: Catlady

701 - Slytherin - Head of House: evil minded

576 - Ravenclaw - Head of House: Arithmancy Master

340 - Hufflepuff - Head of House: still a free post


	3. Harry and Adrian

**Title:**

A few days more

Sequel to twenty-one days

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Fourth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

"A few days more" is the sequel to "Twenty-one days" – read and review this first or you wouldn't understand all that happens in this story.

The fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindors have survived their imprisonment in the potions classroom situated in the dungeons. How will they go on in all-day life after their survival? How will they manage to reintegrate into the castle's routine and their classes? How will they be able to go back to life at all? Watch how those who survived fight for their lives and for their peace, for their place in the community at Hogwarts.

**Disclaimer: **

Did you see Severus alive at the end of _'The deathly hallows'_? no?

Do you think I would have had him died if I had written those books? no?

Then you know that _'Harry Potter'_ does not belong to me … nor does Severus … regrettably … he belongs to J. K. Rowling …

But Hereweald Hrothgar does …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Warning:**

Story contains references to child abuse.

Child-abuse is a really serious thing, it is an evil thing and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help without being helped, and closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist, is no solution …

I only say - remind yourself of your feelings, of your sympathy, and of your understanding … and handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once being abused … with understanding and with help …

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me - I am …

* * *

><p>break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line<p>

**Previously in A few days more**

_When Poppy entered the private room of the infirmary an hour later, she nearly gasped at the picture that greeted her and she remembered the movement she had caught in the corner of his eyes. _

_There, in the corner to her left where Harry's and Severus' beds should be standing with a bedside table between, there they were shoved together, surely Severus having summoned the boy's bed over, and atop the now large double bed were laying one Potions Master, his arm draped over one Harry Snape and his hand laying on the shoulder of one Adrian Pucey the boy apparently having sneaked into the infirmary secretly, _

_An evil smirk spreading over her face she went back into her office and just a moment later came back with a camera. _

**A few days more**

**Chapter three **

**Day three – twenty-fifth of September – Wednesday mid-morning **

**Harry and Adrian**

The first sound he heard was soft sobbing and he forced his brain to work through the fuzz that was keeping his thoughts from working the way they should. The next sound he heard was soft whispering that sounded rather frantic and scared, as if the whisperers were unsure of something.

Somehow knowing that sitting up would help with the fuzz that had his brain under control he forced his eyes open and sat up, listening to the whispers around him in hopes he would find out more.

"Wake up" was the first whisper he clearly understood, thinking with a frown that it was what she was trying to do after all, and "Neville" was the second whisper he clearly understood, wondering why those imbeciles would wake the boy. They all needed their sleep if they were to survive their current situation!

Another moment later he frowned for a moment when he realized – they weren't in those dungeons anymore but in the hospital wing and most likely Neville had just had a nightmare about their imprisonment. The children _had_ to deal with what had happened one way or another after all and Neville wasn't the first one who dealt with their experiences in form of nightmares.

The problem was – after having those nightmares Neville always felt ill and often had stomach cramps throughout the morning hours. He wasn't the only one, Harry and Theodore had those cramps as well, and Granger as well as Draco suffered from headaches after those nightmares. Pansy, Parvati and Blaise had started falling into depression after nightmares and some of the other simply were ill after them. They all suffered from what had happened.

Getting up from his bed quickly he fetched one of the relaxing potions and without so much as a glance at the other boys Snape went over to Neville's bed who was still whimpering and muttering awake now, but clearly uncomfortable in his after-sleep half alertness.

"Neville!" Snape ordered to get the boy's attention, placing his hand on the boy's shoulder. "You must drink this! Open up!" But Neville didn't respond and with an impassive face, the Potions Master more or less pried open Neville's mouth and dripped the clear liquid of the relaxing potion into it. After a few moments, Neville visibly relaxed and took a deep shuddering breath before he looked around, at the others and then at Snape, who had stepped back from the bed.

"W-what h-happened?" Neville whispered, glancing again.

"Come with me, Neville." Snape demanded, knowing that the boy needed something to do.

"N-now, sir?" Neville stuttered and Snape lifted his eyebrow.

"No, Mr. Longbottom, next year." He growled. "Of course now, Neville."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

He had known that he needed Neville doing something to distract his mind, but he at the same time had known that he couldn't leave the room, not now. Adrian and Harry both were sleeping still, both of them clearly exhausted, but he also knew that it wouldn't stay that peaceful for long, that they would wake soon and that they would question each other.

Harry only had him as a father since three weeks now, the first time in his life he had a father at all, he had _anyone_ who cared for him actually, and it only would be natural that he would not take it lightly to have a new presence here so close beside him who demanded his father's attention as well, while Adrian was the one Slytherin who needed him the most, except of Theodore and Draco, but Theodore was used to Harry now, as was Draco – not so Adrian. Adrian had only had to share him at such a private and clingy level with Theodore and Draco so far.

Long story short – he needed, he _wanted_ to be present the moment one of the two woke what surely would wake the other one as well. He simply hadn't been able to allow the child leaving last night, knowing that the boy wouldn't get any sleep after seeing him not only alive but cradling Harry to his chest.

**Flashback**

_A door opening got him out of his sleep, the one sound that always woke him, never mind what, never mind how deep he had been sleeping and without taking his right arm from Harry's small form he slipped his left hand beneath his pillow, gripping his wand just the moment the door closed with a soft click. _

_For a moment he had thought it surely would only be Poppy, looking in on them, but for one, Poppy would have left the door open and she also would have lightened more candles than the one they had burning through the night beside of the fire that spent light and warmth. _

_And then he held his breath when he made out a shadow in the dark, a shadow gliding through the room before stopping, looking around, looking at the table in their midst, at the shelves where the children had stuffed away their things, at the beds, at the bed he was laying in with Harry especially and the grip he had on his wand tightened. A moment later the shadow slowly came closer and in the soft moonlight he could notice with half lidded eyes that the steps the shadow took were unsure, as were the movements generally, until the shadow stood beside his bed, unmoving, gazing down at them – the soft moonlight together with the flickering fire casting light and shadows upon the pale and sad face of Adrian Pucey. _

_The boy stood there, unsurely, his eyes going from his, Snape's, form to Harry's and then back to his and it was clear that the child didn't know what to do, what to think of the situation of him, his head of house, Severus Snape, the head of Slytherin, holding Harry Potter of all people in his arms, Harry Potter, the Gryffindor, the one student that had annoyed him the most so far. _

_Releasing his wand slowly, knowing that the boy wouldn't be a threat, he actually could watch the boy's face going from happy over his, Severus' survival, to sad and then disappointed, hopeless even, before the boy slowly started turning, his gaze definitely longing, and he grabbed Adrian's wrist, clearly startling the child. _

_The moment the boy realized that it was only him, his head of house, his eyes grew large for a second before he gave him a weak but hopeful smile and pulling the boy closer he summoned Harry's now empty bed over to him, knowing that three persons in his bed, never mind how small and thin Harry at the present time was, it simply would be too crowded. _

_Harry stirred in his arms for a moment when Adrian came to lay beside him, but Severus immediately placed a calming hand atop the small shoulder._

_"Hush, child." He gently said. "Go back to sleep. You too, settle down and sleep, everything will work out well."_

**End flashback**

Well, he had seen Adrian's pale and drawn face in the moonlight and it had been no surprise to him that the boy immediately had fallen asleep the moment his head had touched the pillow beside Harry's head.

"Would you please write down – just along general lines – what had happened the past three weeks, Neville?" He then asked, pointing at the table that still stood in the middle of their room. "I of course have held account, but I am sure that the ministry would like having a report from your, the children's, point of view as well. You do not have to go into too many details, Neville, just a rough outline will suffice, even if they are just random thoughts."

The boy smiling at him, nodding and sitting down at the table was enough and while he of course knew that Neville knew exactly why he had asked him to write this report, namely to distract him, he didn't mind. It only showed that the boy was more intelligent than he always had given him credit for and he gave him a short inclining of his head himself.

A moment later he noticed slight movement to his left and gazing over he was looking into the startling blue eyes of one Adrian Pucey who was watching him blearily but calmly, the boy looking over at Harry's still sleeping form for a moment before he looked back at him, and squeezing Neville's shoulder for a second he then went over to the two beds which still were forming one large.

"Good morning, Adrian." He softly said. "I take it you have been sleeping better than you have during the past three weeks?"

There was a soft "yes, sir" and the boy looking up at him, hopefully, before blue eyes were lowered back at nervously twisting fingers.

A moment later there was a soft and strangled sob and then he had an armful of a second year student in his arms, clinging to him while he wrapped his arms around the small, thin and trembling form, scowling at how thin this child was. Had he not eaten anything since he'd been at Hogwarts? Had Cameron and Montague not made sure that their house was cared for? Had Albus not looked after the Slytherins while he had not been available?

He didn't say anything, knowing that it wasn't necessary right now, he just held the child whose entire body was tense with the harshness of his crying until the violent sobs ceased somewhat, making way to soft and calm crying.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Shivering slightly he woke, immediately noticing that it was slightly cool, enough so that Harry was glad – for once – glad for the oversize hoodie he had _'inherited'_ from Dudley this past summer, pulling the hood over his head while he at the same time noticed that it immediately got warm. So Severus must have cast another warming spell on his bed-clothes, either last night after Harry had fallen asleep, or early this morning – or maybe even both times.

A moment later he heard soft sobbing beside him and opening his eyes slowly he blinked in the bright light that immediately dimmed slightly and he turned to his side, where he was not at all surprised to find his father staring down at him with concern – again, the man having placed his hand over his eyes to shield them from the bright light of the late summer day sun shining into the room.

Another moment later he noticed the boy that lay in Severus' arms, sobbing, a boy younger than them, one who was not from their group and he lifted his green eyes at the man's dark black ones, curiously.

"This is Adrian, Harry." Severus softly said while running his hand up and down the other boy's back, calmly. So, surely it had to be one of his father's Slytherins, and suddenly he realized that they must have been very worried over their head of house – and he frowned.

The thought of students outside worrying over Severus, it was a strange thought.

He definitely could understand, now, after he had learned to know the man better during their last three weeks of imprisonment, after he had learned how caring Severus could be, how protective, after he had learned that the man would give his own life if it could safe his students, but nevertheless – it was a strange thought and he was sure that no one except of the Slytherins would worry about Severus, that some of them maybe even would be glad if …

For a moment he couldn't help scowling at the thought that some even might be glad if Severus had died. It made him angry and he suddenly realized that maybe he would have to battle one or another fight over the subject. Surely not everyone would take it lightly, Severus being his father now.

Looking at the younger Slytherin, and he was sure that it was one, even if he didn't know him, his scowl deepened when he realized how thin the boy looked, and how pale. He easily could go as one of their group after being locked away for three weeks without food. What had happened? Had this boy, Adrian, been so worried over his head of house? Had no one seen to the Slytherins while Severus hadn't been there?

And suddenly he understood.

Suddenly he understood why the Slytherins loved Severus as much as they did, why they trusted him unconditionally, never mind what, why … because no, there probably hadn't been anyone ever who had looked after them, except of Severus. And suddenly he understood Severus as well, understood why he always had protected the Slytherins the way he had, giving them points while he took points from other houses … because there was no one else who did, who looked after them, except of him, and he knew it.

Severus had looked down at Adrian, who had started forcing himself to cease his crying, most likely feeling ashamed of crying in front of Harry, in front of any Gryffindor, trying to suppress the last few hiccups, but a soft growl coming from Harry made him looking up at the Gryffindor, preparing himself for the fight of jealousy he had known would come between those two, but the moment he looked into those angry green eyes he knew – it hadn't been a growl out of jealousy, but of anger, and it had been anger over Adrian's condition.

"Harry?" He asked, startling the boy who looked at him with large green eyes for a moment before looking back at Adrian who was just now working his way out of his arms and he increased the hold for a moment, showing the boy that he was to stay where he was for now.

"Sorry, dad." Harry said, startling Adrian with his way of addressing him and he again increased the hold he had on his young snake, knowing that his actions right now could either destroy something, or help the children coming to terms with the situation, Harry as well as Adrian. "I just for a moment wondered if no one has looked after the Slytherins while you've been gone." Harry then said and for a moment he stared at the boy he had adopted, being reminded again at the fact that this boy thought of others before he thought of himself – before his gaze became proud.

"A thought that crossed my mind just as well a moment ago." He softly answered. "I will have the house elves bringing breakfast." He then said and a moment later he was nearly startled when small and thin fingers reached out for the small and thin form he was holding in his arms still, Harry trying to pull the still softly hiccuping Adrian from his arms so that he could prepare for breakfast.

He looked over at the boy for a moment, even wondering if he should allow Harry to take Adrian's form – and not only because Harry was so very weak and fragile himself, but also because Harry was so very emotionally scarred too, needing someone who held him too instead of holding others, but then he allowed it. But not to pull the boy close himself.

"Lean back against the headboard." He softly ordered, waiting until Harry had done so and then he placed Adrian beside his son, his second year snake looking startled for a moment, but then accepting Harry laying his arm around the other boy. "Do not lean too much against Harry, Adrian, he is still too weak for my liking." He softly ordered then. "But stay where you are for now. I am proud of you, of both of you." He softly added before turning quickly and then calling for the Hogwarts house elves.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"This is the first meal during which – _all_ – of you are awake and present." He said, looking at the eighteen students, having included Adrian for their breakfast. "So I will take this chance to set a few ground rules."

There were a few groans, a few sighs and a few other noises that clearly showed the children's dislike about rules, but a lifted eyebrow from him was all it took to keep them in line, like always, now more so than in the past, he realized.

"One is – we will stay here for the remainder of the week, until you all have regained at least most of your strength." He started. "I expect you to rest and to eat. I will have you partaking in each meal, breakfast, lunch and dinner as well as three snacks between – in the mornings, in the afternoons and late evenings. I also will have you outside in the infirmary gardens. Fresh air and sun is just as important to you right now as is sleep and food."

"We have slept enough during the past three weeks." Dean said and he nodded.

"Yes, you have, Dean." He calmly answered. "But the sleep you had, especially the sleep in the end, it has been a restless sleep, it has lacked of true comfort, rest and recovery. Your bodies have not been able to draw any strength from your sleep and neither have your minds been settled by sleep due to nightmares you have suffered from – and so yes, you have been sleeping a lot, but not rested."

"Oh." The boy made, looking at him startled. "So that's why I'm still so tired." He then said.

"Exactly." He answered. "For now this will do, but as the days pass, I will have you doing physical exercises too so your muscles will be able to recover and to rebuild. You will have need to rebuild strength and physical exercises will help with that. I however expect you to go slow about this, anyone I notice overdoing it, will get into trouble with me and believe me, you won't want this. We will start slow, no physical straining activities except of those physical exercises I prescribe, and this goes for you as well, Adrian. For now I will take you into this group here, because you too will need rest and food. Did I make myself clear?"

There were a few nodding heads and there were a few "yes, sir", and he himself nodded satisfied.

"Down in the classroom you've said we shouldn't do physical exercises." Gregory frowned at him and he lifted his eyebrow. Of course Gregory Goyle would complain about physical exercises. Not even Vincent was as physically inactive as was Gregory and he sighed.

"Yes, I have, Gregory." He explained. "But back then you did not have any food at all and you needed your body as calm as possible to safe energy for as long as possible. You still will have to be careful, but you will need to do physical exercises so the energy the food provides your bodies with now won't go waste in running to fat alone but muscles as well."

"Don' wanna, Severus." The boy sighed, leaning his arms at the tabletop. "I don't feel up for those exercises."

"Understandable, Gregory, but you will have no other chance because I won't have you skipping them." He said. "I actually appoint them as one your classes until further notice. You will see that I won't have you doing anything you won't be able to, Gregory, so stop worrying, you should know me better than that."

"I do." The boy sighed, closing his eyes, about to fall asleep at the table. "That's what's worrying me."

"Go to bed, Gregory." He softly said, knowing what the boy meant. He often was harsh to his students, even to his snakes, demanding not only fifty percent and not even only a half-heartedly seventy-five percent either. He expected his students to at least try and give hundred percent. If they didn't manage, then that was a different story, but he expected all of them to do as best as they could. And Gregory knew that, therefore knew that he wouldn't be satisfied with a half-hearted attempt. But honestly, what was Gregory expecting? That he would have them running ten laps around the lake? Surely not!

Well, at the end of the school year maybe, he smirked, but surely not now!

"You would get much better marks if you stirred your potions as well as you do the porridge, Harry." He remarked, unable to keep himself from doing so at watching the boy for a while now, stirring the milky porridge clockwise, then in a figure eight, and finally counter-clockwise in a continuous pattern after he had done the first three or four spoonfuls of the boy's breakfast. "I am not fooled by your stirring, I expect you to eat more than that."

"But I'm not hungry anymore." The boy said, letting his spoon sink into the bowl and he clearly could see – the child felt nausea at alone the _thought_ of eating more. "I have eaten!"

"Two more spoonfuls." He said, his dark eyes on the child.

"I'm not three anymore." The boy sighed, pushing his bowl away a bit.

"Regardless of your biological age or the age you are acting – you _need_ to eat." Severus said, sliding the bowl back to the boy.

"I _have_ eaten." Harry answered, looking up at him with green eyes that bordered on hurt, eyes that clearly held tears.

"I _know_, Harry." He calmly said, knowing what Harry thought he was implying. "And I did not say you are not eating. I _have seen_ that you have and I _know_ that you must feel full already, but you need to eat more. I _do_ know that it will be hard for you especially, seeing that you have not eaten a decent meal in three months, that is the quarter of a year after all, Harry, and I _do_ acknowledge this. But you have to. Your stomach has to get used to eating again and I need you to eat more than three spoonfuls."

Merlin, this would be a fight, getting this particular child back to health, a fight the child surely wouldn't be able to battle alone.

And yet, he didn't mind. He didn't mind fighting battle for battle in a war to get this child back to health. He had known after all that this would happen, he had known the moment he had adopted the boy, and he had known again the moment he had informed Albus about the new circumstances when the headmaster had been here last night.

**Flashback **

_"I won't allow the boy back there." He growled, his eyes resting on the small form laying in bed, sleeping peacefully for once, scowling at the atrocious clothes the boy was wearing, the much too large hoodie. But well, seeing that he was unsure, knowing that most likely anything would look much too large on the boy at the present time, even clothes that would fit him under normal circumstances, he hadn't shrunken the hoodie. Not to mention that the boy had wrapped himself into the piece of cloth and he had thought that the additional warmth it provided would do rather good at the present time. He would have to have a word with the child about his clothes at a later point. _

_The house elves had brought the children's trunks to the infirmary, seeing that they would reside here for a week, had placed them at the ends of the children's beds and the infirmary room rather looked like a dormitory right now than like an infirmary room to begin with and so he had seen the boy's clothes in his trunk. Atrocious clothes and the hoodie as well as the pyjama bottom and the mismatched socks the boy was wearing right now definitely were the better ones of the boy's possessions concerning clothes._

_"He has no place else to go." Albus said and Severus scowled angrily at the headmaster. "The blood- …"_

_"The blood wards have fallen." He hissed darkly at the man. "Minerva and Filius have confirmed that. They are of no use since the ritual of the blood adoption. He won't go back there, to those monsters. He will stay with me, Albus." _

_The headmaster's light chuckle made him realize what he had just said, how he had said it, his emotional outburst and being so very angry on the boy's behalf, but well – what did the blasted headmaster expect? He had adopted the boy, of course he would be angry on the boy's behalf after such a stupid and irresponsible suggestion of the headmaster. _

_"He seems to trust me and … I find him – tolerable." He finally growled, trying to do damage limitation and he briefly closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose. "I have adopted him after all and surely you did not think that I would have my son back with Petunia and this idiot man called Vernon Dursley." He said, re-opening his eyes. "On the contrary. I will press charges against both of those imbecilic and sad excuses Harry has as his relatives and former caretakers. And don't you dare twinkling at me, old man!" He warned the moment he saw the beginning of a sparkle in his mentor's eyes, signalling that Albus had – what the headmaster surely was positive about – a great plan. "You have not read all of those reports yet. I do know what they contain, seeing that I have written them."_

_"Of course, my dear boy." Albus said, his voice suddenly sounding old. "You are right, of course. I just am so happy that you all have survived, that I did not have lost you, sometimes I seem to forget what it all means to you, to all of you. You have my apology, Severus. You do not know what this means to me, that you have survived, you do not know what you mean to me. I felt as if I had lost a son – and a grandson for that matter. You do not know how much I always loved you, Severus."_

_Albus' voice had gone very soft, the older wizard maybe not even wanting him to hear his words, most likely knowing that they would be answered by a cold and denying sneer before a scathing remark would come._

_"I fear, I have a … confession to make to you, too." He said, again closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose, hard this time. He really couldn't believe what he was about to say, but this seemed to be the night for the impossible. "I fear that I should have told you this many years ago already but was unable or unwilling to express. The past few weeks in those dungeons however have made me re-think a few things."_

_"Severus?" Albus asked when he stopped to take a deep breath. "What happened Severus?" The man then asked, sounding worried._

_"Nothing, you blasted old man." He growled to mask his own unsureness and strange feeling, the pain in his chest. "I only wanted to thank you, Albus, for being more than only a friend and mentor but for being a … father … to me for these past long years, something that surely has not been always easy and I do appreciate it more than you can ever know. Especially that when I pushed you away, you just pulled back harder, you crazy old man, whatever for you would do such a foolish thing. So yes, I do … well … 'like' … you too … somehow."_

_A moment later the older wizard had rushed over and had grabbed Severus into a tight embrace. _

_"Oh, my child, when I thought you had been dead, my heart died along with you." The old idiot fool then gave away in a near sob. "Merlin! I never thought I would hear you say those words. I love you too Severus, and would be proud for you to consider me your father, even if you do think I'm an old coot, you insufferably bad-tempered child!"_

**End flashback**

Well, at least none of the students had been awake to witness his absolutely foolish outburst and for a moment he wondered how Albus managed to _not_ feeling embarrassed by his display of emotions last night, and closing his eyes he nearly groaned, willing those thoughts away.

"The first thing I will do today however, is a complete medical scan of all of you." He then said. "The last scan Poppy has made was two days ago and I want to be on the safe side, not to mention that the scan she has done back then has been a cursory scan only as neither she nor me were ready to risk flooding you with too much or intense magic."

"Shall I go to classes, sir?" Adrian then asked, looking up at him and again there was so much hope in eyes that otherwise were distant and dead – he once more wondered why no one had looked after his Slytherins. He clearly would have a word with Poppy about that!

"No, you won't, Adrian." He answered. "You are far from being ready for classes and I can see as much even without a medical scan. You will stay here and partake in the treatment I bestow upon the others."

"But I'm smaller." The boy said, his eyes large. "Surely I won't be able to …"

"Younger, Adrian, yes." Severus growled while looking at Harry. "But surely you are not the smallest here."

"Just great." He heard Harry mumbling between another spoonful of the porridge he fought with and he couldn't help smirking at the child, knowing what he meant with his comment. "Really, just bloody great!"

"Language, Mr. Snape." He said lifting his eyebrow at the boy and when his dark eyes locked with the green ones, he felt another wave of … affection, because it surely was not love … filling the space where his heart surely had to be if he had one. He had never thought that he of all people could be a father one day, that he of all people would have a son one day, and now he had Harry – and since he no longer would spy on the death eaters – this place where his heart was supposed to be, it no longer was filled with the bitterness, and he suddenly felt so much lighter, felt so very free.

"I'm sorry, sir." The boy said, hanging his head and he couldn't help thinking that just a few weeks ago the boy would have looked up at him defiantly, trying to seem brave and strong in front of him out of pure self-defence.

"There is nothing to be sorry for." He softly said. "It is only understandable that you feel frustrated at the fact that even a second year student is slightly taller than you are. But let me assure you, Harry, with regular meals and with healthy food, plus the nutrient potions, you will catch up. It will take time, and you will have to fight, but you will manage."

"I will work hard, I promise." The child suddenly said determinedly. "I will be a good son, I promise."

"You already _are_ a good son, Harry." Severus assured him, getting off his chair and kneeling in front of the child, his heart clenching at his son's desperate words. "There is no need to change anything, child."

"But I'm still far too weak." Harry said.

"You are not weak! You, in fact, are much further along than others in your position would be." Snape answered. Harry looked up at Snape and for a moment the child looked as if a heavy burden had been lifted from Harry's chest. "And I am proud of you, because in truth, you are so much taller than many others, child. And now let's get you outside for an hour." He then said, leading the students out of the room behind the hospital wing they were occupying and through a double winged glass door that led them out, directly on a veranda and the adjoining gardens that were secured from the prying eyes of the student body.

break ... ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ... line

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued<strong>

**Next time in A few days more**

___A fewer, basilisks and other deathly creatures … ___

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too, thank you …

**House cup: **

At the present time it looks like this:

708 - Gryffindor - Head of House: Catlady

701 - Slytherin - Head of House: evil minded

576 - Ravenclaw - Head of House: Arithmancy Master

340 - Hufflepuff - Head of House: still a free post


	4. a fever, basilisks and other deathly

**Title:**

A few days more

Sequel to twenty-one days

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Fourth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

"A few days more" is the sequel to "Twenty-one days" – read and review this first or you wouldn't understand all that happens in this story.

The fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindors have survived their imprisonment in the potions classroom situated in the dungeons. How will they go on in all-day life after their survival? How will they manage to reintegrate into the castle's routine and their classes? How will they be able to go back to life at all? Watch how those who survived fight for their lives and for their peace, for their place in the community at Hogwarts.

**Disclaimer: **

Did you see Severus alive at the end of _'The deathly hallows'_? no?

Do you think I would have had him died if I had written those books? no?

Then you know that _'Harry Potter'_ does not belong to me … nor does Severus … regrettably … he belongs to J. K. Rowling …

But Hereweald Hrothgar does …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Warning:**

Story contains references to child abuse.

Child-abuse is a really serious thing, it is an evil thing and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help without being helped, and closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist, is no solution …

I only say - remind yourself of your feelings, of your sympathy, and of your understanding … and handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once being abused … with understanding and with help …

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me - I am …

* * *

><p>break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line<p>

**Previously in A few days more**

_"I will work hard, I promise." The child suddenly said determinedly. "I will be a good son, I promise."_

_"You already are a good son, Harry." Severus assured him, getting off his chair and kneeling in front of the child, his heart clenching at his son's desperate words. "There is no need to change anything, child."_

_"But I'm still far too weak." Harry said._

_"You are not weak! You, in fact, are much further along than others in your position would be." Snape answered. Harry looked up at Snape and for a moment the child looked as if a heavy burden had been lifted from Harry's chest. "And I am proud of you, because in truth, you are so much taller than many others, child. And now let's get you outside for an hour." He then said, leading the students out of the room behind the hospital wing they were occupying and through a double winged glass door that led them out, directly on a veranda and the adjoining gardens that were secured from the prying eyes of the student body._

**A few days more**

**Chapter four **

**Day four – twenty-sixth of September – Thursday**

**A fever, basilisks and other deathly creatures**

"Stand again, please, cover your _left_ eye this time and read the top line for me." The Potions Master said and with a tired sigh he stood and did what his father had asked of him. Why did the man have to know so much about medical things? Why could the man not simply let him sleeping? It was annoying that every morning he came up with something else he could check or test or whatever, every bloody morning!

But well, he did and so Harry stood up and covered his left eye, taking a step back when Snape motioned for him to stand a bit further away. He squinted his right eye, trying to focus on the awfully blurry shape. It wasn't too difficult to make out that it was an 'E', but it amazed him just _how_ blurry that 'E' _was_.

"It's an 'E'." He said, trying to not sound as if it were a question. "An 'O' and an 'A' – I think."

Severus nodded, timing just how long it took Harry to answer him and judging the boy's strained stance, his head slightly turned to the left while he at the same time cast a spell at the boy's eyes, having noticed Harry squinting his eye, and he frowned.

"The third line, then." He said, trying to sound as emotionless as possible while he didn't really like that the boy was barely sure concerning the _first_ line. His left eye was already bad, but he at least had been sure for the first two lines.

He had tried to keep all the examinations that were to do with all of the children as easy and as stress-free for them as possible and each morning he tested one thing or another, trying to have just once test with each particular child so that they were free to enjoy the remainder of the day.

Early yesterday morning he had tested Blaise's kidneys – after the child had made fun of his habit to use the loo so often and during the most inconvenient times possible – potions – and he indeed had found them not working to his satisfaction, had found a long-term weakness there that he was sure was caused by an infect years ago, an infect that had not been taken care of.

After that he'd taken Theodore aside to have a test on his muscle mass and then Harry while the day before he'd taken them aside to have a test on their organs and well, except of the nutrient potions and the muscle relaxing potions, he'd started restorative potions with both of them, as well as with Draco, Parvati and Tracy.

Harry squinted even more. Now this was a bit challenging. He could see that the line above it had at least a very blurry 'P' – or a very blurry 'F', he wasn't sure about _that_ – but he was having great difficulty figuring out the other two letters, let alone any of the letters on line three. He struggled to focus his eyes, squinting so much his eye was practically closed. He sighed heavily and dropped his hand from his left eye.

"I can't read it at all, sir." He said, feeling slightly disappointed in himself. "'m sorry, sir."

Though he'd had to wear glasses for the majority of his life, and though his right eye definitely had been better, he felt worse now for needing them, as if he was imperfect, and that was unacceptable. He was sure that his dad expected more of him than being so imperfect, and so – so damn weak, and damaged and … and whatever.

He shook his head, trying to clear his head of such frustrating thoughts, knowing that they would get him nowhere. They were over this already, they all had their depressing and frustrating thoughts and they all knew that they got nowhere with them and tried to pull themselves out of them, sometimes pulling each other out of those thoughts, they had learned doing so during the past twenty-one days.

Severus nodded and motioned for Harry to sit back down. He had all the information he needed anyway, having cast a diagnostic while the boy had tried to decipher any of the letters in the second and third line, and he actually was startled about _how_ bad his eyesight was.

"There is no need to apologize for things that you have no control over, child." He then said, trying to not sound sad at Harry apologizing for such a thing. "Your eyesight however is miserable, Harry, and I wonder how you have managed walking around, playing Quidditch and doing your school work with the incorrect prescription for such a miserable vision! No wonder you always add the incorrect amounts of ingredients in potions, you are unable to see the bloody measuring cups!"

The boy glared at him for a moment before he sighed and then looked defeated.

"I was fine. I wasn't walking into walls, was I?" Harry then said and he, Snape, shook his head.

"And you think that this makes it alright?" He then asked while he sat down at the table in their room and took the boy's glasses. "The little fact that you have not run into walls? Don't you think that there is more to comfortably moving than – not running into walls? I highly doubt that you have recognized all your surroundings even the way you should have and the only reason you have not run into walls was, that you have gotten used to – somehow halfway _sense_ your surroundings. I will get an appointment with an oculist as soon as possible as I do hope that we can get them better a bit than they are right now and I am sure that they wouldn't be so bad had your relatives taken you to an eye specialist years ago."

Pulling out his wand he tapped it at the boy's glasses and murmuring the needed spells to change the lenses into what he needed – and wanted.

"These are special lenses now, Harry." He then said while handing the boy the glasses. "They are unbreakable, impenetrable to any sort of hex or curse and they will change to be whatever prescription your eyes grow to need.

Harry took the glasses that were being handed to him with wide eyes, as if he never had owned anything so special that had been given to him and the hesitation, as if the boy asked for his permission to actually put them on his nose, it was enough proof of just that.

"Thank you, Professor." The boy whispered when he finally slid the glasses on his nose and looked around – and he himself couldn't help but watching the child without any reprimands upon the child ridiculously looking around, looking at anything he could look at, at his hands even, at one of the books that were laying on the table, at the texture of the table even, the child clearly being amazed at all he could see so suddenly and so clearly.

He however had to ignore the _'professor'_ deliberately, knowing why the child had used this term of addressing him, namely because he was so damn unsure again.

"You are quite welcome, child." He answered softly, his next words difficult for him to say. "As much as you seem to enjoy your new ability however, you will have to get your eyes used to the new glasses slowly or you will get headaches. I suggest that you take them off for an hour after wearing them for an hour for now."

"'k." The boy obediently said and not for the first time he wondered if the child would have obeyed him years ago as much as he did right now if only he had tried earlier.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

He had taken them into the gardens half an hour ago, like he did every day now, in fact, they only were inside for sleeping, for eating and for any medical examinations or treatments – and when he decided that it got too cold for them. Even their exercises they did outside, as small as those exercises were and even Gregory had survived them so far.

He had them just walking through the infirmary gardens that were closed off from the regular gardens where the students could visit, had them walking along the garden paths, had them laying in the grass and doing stretching exercises or massaging their little muscles. He'd had the Weasley twins visiting them twice now, and he had asked his house elf to bring over Marcus for a visit, Montague and Warrington so that not only some of the outside students knew that they were alive and free by now, but so that his fourth years also learned to interact with some of the other students again too.

He also had one or another child – aside from Adrian – pulled from classes and their dormitories to have them integrated into their little group here upon them having had troubles with eating and sleeping during the past few weeks while they had been missing, the children being in need of their head of house that not had been there.

And tomorrow the heads of houses – except of him – would get the parents and bring them to the infirmary.

Albus already was preparing the large chamber that was situated directly below the infirmary hall, furnishing it with large tables and cosy armchairs and sofas so that they had a comfortable place that was large enough so the children might not feel trapped or locked up, where they would be able to sit down or to walk a few steps if they so needed – or even to take a step back from their parents if necessary as he was sure that one or another of the parents would surely smother them upon the first sight.

It would be a difficult meeting and he knew it, what was the reason as to why he had suggested to Albus that they keep their being alive secret until they were prepared – and had prepared the children – for just this moment, for being crushed to death by their parents.

"Are you warm enough, Harry?" He softly asked upon noticing the boy shivering in the fresh air.

He watched the boy nodding while he leaned back, running his arms around his chest and it was clear that – Harry definitely was _not_ warm enough but was either too stubborn or too carless to admit it, most likely even thinking that it was a small thing to freeze and with a sigh he got off his chair and took one of the blankets he had stored outside for the children, ignoring the startled and clearly not understanding look that crossed the child's pale face when he covered him with the blanket. It was clear that, even now, while they were free and after nearly four weeks of living together, the boy was not used to anyone caring for him.

He sat back down into his own chair, watching the child that seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, looking up towards the sky and clearly enjoying not only the fresh late summer air but clearly enjoying his new ability to see the white fluffy clouds too.

"Harry?" He softly asked, not really wanting to get the child from the bliss of just sitting in the fresh air and watching the clouds instead of the grey and stony walls of the dungeons classroom.

"Hmm?" The boy made, asked, without looking down from the sky.

"Take off your glasses for a while, Harry." He said, "It has been more than an hour now since you wear them."

"'k." The boy again made, obediently, even with a sigh and again he wondered if maybe he would have been just as obedient a few years ago if he, Snape, had met him with just some understanding and tolerance back then.

"This cloud looks like a Thestral, if you just squint your eyes right." The boy said, most likely sensing that he wanted to have his attention for a moment, most likely fearing that he wanted to talk with him about something while he didn't want to talk and he knew the reason. They had started talking about not only their experiences in the dungeons classroom, but about what it meant for each of them, including the abuse some of them had gone through as one came together with the other and they had to acknowledge it. While at the same time he wondered – how was it, that this child could see the Thestrals, whose death had he seen, consciously seen?

It couldn't be his parents' death, because first – James had not even been near Harry's nursery but downstairs and Lily had not been in the child's line of view when she'd died either, having shielded the door of the child's room from the outside, trying to quickly erect wards, and Harry had been in his crib, according to Hagrid who had taken the child from Godric Hollow. And second – the child had been too young to understand what he had seen anyway back then, even if he now might know what it meant, he hadn't known the moment he had seen it.

"Give me ten minutes, please, Harry, and then you can go back to watching the clouds." He said after having pierced the child long enough with his dark eyes.

"Sorry." The boy sighed but did as he was told and looked at him, shifting in his chair so that he faced him, showing him that he had the child's undivided attention and he nodded his approval.

"While we are walking through the gardens and do the stretching exercises and the massages on all your limbs, this is no help with your hands and fingers and so I have ordered this here from St. Mungo's." He said, reaching a green ball of play dough over to Harry who looked at the – clearly offending thing suspiciously, only taking it after a moment of hesitancy and him giving an encouraging nod away.

"What am I supposed to do with it?" The boy asked, holding the play dough in his skeletal and still always trembling hands, looking over at him, Snape, questioningly, unsurely and for a moment he wondered if the child had ever had been allowed to play with dough, or any other toys at all while he immediately knew the answer to that – namely no, the child never had been allowed to play with any toys at all and he surely should not wonder why Harry never had learned how to add one number to the other as any child learned while playing.

"Form it." He said, trying to sound as calm as possible while inwardly he would like to kill some muggles for once, and to kill them as slowly and as painfully as possible and with as much humiliation to them as possible too. "Roll it in your hands, smash it, shape it, play with it, form animals or plants, do with it whatever you want as long as you do use your fingers so that they might get back some strength."

"'k." The boy said, unsurely and experimentally pressing his finger into the mass before looking over at him questioningly, warily even, as if he were asking if he did this correctly and waiting for any sort of punishment for destroying the perfectly shaped ball at the same time and he motioned the boy to go on, again inwardly seething in anger at Petunia Dursley and her husband, knowing that they would pay, that they would pay for a child that had to learn how to play at the age of fourteen.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

He had watched Harry – _'playing'_ with the dough, in the truest sense of the word, because the fourteen year old teenager had at first deformed the ball, slowly and bit by bit only while watching him, Severus, warily before he had reformed the ball, all the while waiting for either his approval or his disapproval, all the while being unsure if he did this correctly, as if there were a correct way to play with dough.

At one point the boy had outdone himself in his daring and he even had been able to see the skeletal thin body of his son tensing up before he had – divided the play dough into two pieces, in his eyes clearly destroying the toy and he immediately had known that the child was about to test his limits, to test his rules, to test the water, to test _him, Snape_ – and maybe even to test himself.

The pale face had become a tense mask while green eyes had watched him warily, scared even, two horribly trembling hands holding a piece of play dough each without any movement except the trembling, waiting for the inevitable.

**Flashback**

_Reaching out his hand slowly, palm up, he wordlessly asked for one of the two pieces and a moment later he could watch how the boy's face fell, the child slowly and carefully, warily, reaching both pieces over at him, a sad expression mixing into the scared one and it was clear – the child thought this was his punishment for destroying the toy, it would be taken from him and he seemed ready to hand it over wordlessly, clearly disappointed but wordlessly and without a fuss, accepting, like he so many things in his life had learned to accept. _

_Wordlessly he took one of the pieces, ignoring the other one and simply started re-forming the play dough while he watched the boy out of the corner of his eyes, the way he slowly and unsurely pulled back his hand with the second piece of dough, again experimentally forming this one back into a smaller ball while watching him warily again – or still – and he inwardly sighed, knowing that with having the boy free he surely had not solved all problems, knowing that he would have a long road ahead of him with this child, knowing that it would be a difficult road until he had undone all the damage, physical damage as well as emotional damage the Dursleys had bestowed upon this child, if he ever would manage undoing them at all. _

**End flashback**

Harry had gotten more and more confident with time, had even lost himself in his playing while forming things, destroying them just to form other things and it had been clear that it was the first time he was allowed to play like this, like a small child. The boy even had placed the ball on the table and had smashed it down at one point or another and even if he had looked over at him with large and scared green eyes again, had waited for his nod before taking it and forming it into a ball again.

It had been all too soon that the boy had placed the ball at the table in front of him, trembling fingers massaging each other and he had known that Harry's fingers had started to hurt upon playing with the dough.

The same balls of play dough he had given Draco and Theodore later and both boys immediately had acted like small children, having nothing else than nonsense in their heads with the green mass, but he had allowed it as they had infected Harry with their nonsense too and in the end he'd had three boys sitting there, laughing at their nonsense things they had formed and destroyed and re-formed, and for a moment he even had reprimanded himself for not doing so in the beginning, when introducing the play dough to Harry, for not having Draco and Theodore in the play from the beginning on, but upon a second thought he realized that – no, most likely this experience, sitting there with him and really experimentally starting to play for the first time in his life, it was a private moment that belonged to Harry and him alone.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Allow them those days, Mr. Warrington." Hereweald said when Cameron, the sixth year Slytherin prefect had complained about Severus and the children being in the hospital wing still, clearly wanting to have them back in their house and on their table in the great hall, clearly worrying. "They have been through hell and back, and they have survived this lovely trip, I think they have earned themselves the right to have these few days. Not to mention that they need them to prepare themselves for the onslaught civilisation will bring. You will have to deal with _me_ until then." He added with a smirk.

"I'm just worried, sir." Warrington frowned, not used to him as his new head of house and therefore preferring being on the safe side. He could understand that.

"I know, Mr. Warrington, and I just tried to lighten the situation that is stressful enough, for all of you." He seriously answered. "I _do_ realize that I am not your regular head of house and that you surely are not too happy about having me as a substitution until Professor Snape is back and they all are well enough so that he can take back his head of house duties."

"May I be open, sir?" The boy asked and he inclined his head, not used to teenagers being so – well-behaved.

"Of course, Mr. Warrington." He then said. "I _expect_ you to be open, always. Civility is important, yes, as is respect, but I do not care for false civility and respect comes along with honesty."

"Well, sir …" The boy started before taking a deep breath as if he had to prepare himself for his next words as he didn't know how he, Hereweald Hrothgar, his new head of house, would react. "You are not unlike Professor Snape, sir, and not only in your looks but in your sarcasm too. I also am glad that we got a head of house that at least is a friend of Professor Snape and that at least cares, and you have proved that you do care, with your speech ten days ago, contraire to Professor Slughorn whom the headmaster has appointed for our potions lessons so far. It is just that, Professor Snape has been here for years and he was a great head of house. He has cared where no one else has cared and so of course the others are worried. And now Adrian is with them and together with him three other Slytherins that had been ill, they are missing in the eyes of the others. I just think that maybe we should tell them the truth. Professor Snape would have told them the truth, trusting in their word that they would keep the secret."

"I do understand your reasoning, Cameron, but you will have to try and understand mine as well." He then said. "Trust is something we have to earn, Mr. Warrington, and as much as I would like to trust the words from _all_ of you from the beginning on, I do not know you and you do not know me. You as well as I – we all have to work hard to earn our trusts. It won't be easy, but it will be possible and I think, it will be until Saturday and then the children will be back, two days only, Cameron, but it is important that the secret is kept until then. Tomorrow the parents will be brought to Hogwarts, if word goes out before then, hell will break loose and the parents will have not only the headmaster's hide but any teacher's hides as well, including Severus'. Not to mention that – they would smother and crush the children in the hospital wing without preparation, they would floo over and they would storm the infirmary and startle and frighten them."

"But they'll do so tomorrow anyway." Cameron said, not really understanding.

"Yes, they will do, but not only will they be prepared by the heads of houses to be careful and slow, but also will they not meet in the hospital wing but in a special prepared room where the children will have enough space so that they can move without feeling locked up and trapped. Not to mention that until then Severus has prepared the children just as well, most likely having prepared one or another of them with a calming draught beforehand." Sighing he leaned back in his chair, watching the boy who seemed to understand. "They will need all their strength for this meeting tomorrow, Mr. Warrington, and after this meeting they will be very tired and exhausted. They will need rest and sleep for another night before the heads of houses will get them re-integrated to the student body and the everyday routine at the castle and the school. I do understand that you all suffer from the loss of your friends and your head of house, Mr. Warrington, but they are the ones whose needs we have to respect. Just take the misters Snape, Nott and Malfoy, they are just one closed door away from Odin's halls and Miss Patil as well as Miss Davis is close behind. As much as I would like comforting your house with the knowledge of their safety, I think those two days are a small prize for their lives, don't you think, Mr. Warrington?"

The boy nodded and then watched him for some time, silently, just sitting there with his mind elsewhere while the others did their homework or chatted some time away and he lifted the privacy spell he had cast so that the other students wouldn't stumble over their conversation.

Well, this seemed to go better than he had expected, even though he really had to be careful of how he handled the children, but he had known that it wouldn't be easy to begin with.

**Flashback**

_"I do not care how this idiot might feel, Albus, but I want him away from my Slytherins and I want him away from them right now!" Severus growled, leaning with both his hands atop the headmaster's desk. _

_The man had asked him to accompany him to the headmaster's office after the children had been to bed and Poppy had promised to watch over them and so they had sneaked through one or another secret passageway that led to the headmaster's office where they had asked the old wizard to call over Slughorn as well. _

_"Severus!" Said idiot gasped, looking like a goldfish – like a fat goldfish – in a glass of water. _

_"Do not play the horrified man, Slughorn!" Severus hissed and he was reminded of why that man was considered a dark wizard. "I have seen the entries in the potions notebooks from your sixth year students as well as your second year students, from different houses not to mention – and there is nothing in there except of random thoughts they had on your poor behaviour and ill favouritism, giving out good marks to either the children of order members or the good-looking and rich children while the students of the poor families get bad marks never mind their achievements. Not to mention your –" and here the man actually took a few slow and threatening steps towards Slughorn – "poor care for the children you were entrusted with, but those are no news after all. You never have cared about the health of the students under your care, only about the fame you could gather by collecting the famous around you."_

_"What are you implying, Severus?" The man asked, backing away until he stood with his back against the wall. "Of course I do care about the students and …"_

_"As much as you have cared about Adrian Pucey, Slughorn?" Severus asked, his voice bordering on danger then. "Or is there a special reason as to why this particular child looks as if he has not eaten since at least three weeks and neither slept one peaceful night? Have you not been the resident Potions Master for the past three weeks? I wonder why you have not provided the child with a dreamless sleep potion every other day and I also wonder how it is that you did not notice his starved and ill appearance. Did you even notice him missing after I have pulled him from classes last night and integrated him into the group of students I have in the hospital wing as his life is in danger even? Or have you just overlooked the boy missing like you overlook so many other things?"_

_"Severus, please." The headmaster said and Severus sharply turned towards the older wizard. _

_"And you!" Severus hissed at Dumbledore. "You better be very quiet, Albus, because you are the headmaster of this bloody school and one of your students nearly died just under your nose. Did you not make sure that my Slytherins were well cared for upon my absence? Because Adrian is not the only student being ill. I already have the misters Baddoc and Prichard as well as Miss Black pulled from classes and took them into the group of students I have in the infirmary because they as well have lost too much weight for my liking, and because they have missed too much sleep just as well while no one has cared for their needs Albus. So you better do not say one single word against my wishes."_

_"Of course, Severus." Albus immediately said, trying to sooth the Potions Master, a sight that was rather comically, he had to admit, and he had to bit his tongue to keep from chuckling, knowing that he would piss his friend off if he chuckled now. "But what is it you wish anyway?" The man then asked, as if he did not know already._

_"I want you to have this imbecile leaving the castle and I want you to have Hereweald as the resident Potions Master and the deputy Head of Slytherin for the time being as I surely will be needed for some time longer within the group of students I have in the infirmary right now." The man said and he sighed – so be it. "I also wish for a separate timetables which I will organize myself for those students I deem necessary until further notice as they won't be able to visit all the classes in the beginning. They have survived because they have settled into their own routine and they will have to slowly being re-introduced to their daily routine of the castle. I expect you to let me handle them and to let Hereweald handle the Slytherins – with my help of course, he won't be thrown into this alone."_

**End flashback**

Well, alone Slughorn's face had been priceless and shaking his head he leaned back, watching all those children that were his students now. Severus had said that he would not throw him into this alone and the man was indeed available to provide him with help and to even pull one or another student out of their dormitory to integrate them into the group of fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindors, like he had done with Adrian, Malcolm, Graham and Emma, but that didn't mean that he didn't feel bloody alone and – somehow at least – overstrained a bit.

Let's just take Miss Emma Black.

The girl definitely was a genius, the third year student being able to answer any sixth or seventh year questions that were thrown at her and she clearly didn't understand why she had to reduce her learning to a level she had reached years ago already, but Severus had told him that actually this particular child was not attending Hogwarts for learning any school related stuff, but for learning how to interact with other human beings, that the girl was able to solve any arithmetic problem that could be asked of her, never mind how complicated, but that she had troubles tying her shoes, that the girl was able to do any spell, to invent new spells even, but that she was unable to even hold her cutlery like any normal child would but did so like a toddler would, that she knew anything about potions one could know, but was unable to actually brewing one.

Balancing above a wall – or just above a line drawn on the ground – the girl was unable doing so, but Severus had kept her at Hogwarts anyway, working on just such things with the girl, having her balancing over drawn lines on the ground, having her brewing potions in single lessons and having her using scissors and glue and coloured pencils, over and over explaining her that the break was necessary and that she had to learn using a break for relaxing her brain, as difficult as this seemed to her, whenever she came running to him with the question if the break wasn't over soon as for the girl, any break was actually strenuous as she was not challenged then, her brain having nothing to do.

And now Severus hadn't been there, of course the girl had been more than just upset – and therefore nearly impossible to handle.

Sighing he got off the armchair he had been sitting in to leave the Slytherin common room and to visit the hospital wing to have a look at Severus and the children before he would retire in his new set of rooms he'd gotten here at Hogwarts, in the dungeons, near Severus' set of rooms.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Ready for bed?" Severus asked, knowing that he should keep Harry in bed as much as possible, even if the child didn't sleep all the time.

"'M not tired, dad." The boy said, looking up at him nearly startled and he sighed.

"You need your rest, Harry." He said, trying to sound understanding and severe at the same time.

"Dad … I've been resting all day. Just half an hour more, please." The boy complained, the first real complain since their imprisonment and he didn't even mind the child complaining for once, for once showing a normal reaction like any other child would upon being sent to bed early. Harry's next words however had him sighing, knowing that there was more to the – _'complain'_. "The bed … hurts."

Of course he could understand that the mattress hurt the boy's bony back and hips, the bony shoulders, but this was important for his health and that was above any displeasure the child might feel and so he stood and helped Harry up.

"Let us see what we can do, child, up you get." Severus said, walking a sighing Harry to his bed. "Get in bed and turn on your stomach." He then said.

"Massaging my back and shoulders?" The boy asked while yawning tiredly and he smirked. Not tired, huh?

"It may turn out to be a spanking if you do not obey me quickly." He said, again smirking at how fast the boy was laying on his stomach on the bed, his head resting on bony forearms and he shook his head.

"I know that you do not like lowering your arms, that you keep them near your head unconsciously and in self-protection, but I need you to lay your arms beside your body and I promise that I won't hurt you." He said, watching the first startled face of his son, then the unsure face and finally the scared face while thin and bony arms went down slowly, until they were placed beside the thin body – until the child felt his fingers prodding at the little mass that the boy called muscles.

A moment later they were up again, near his upper body and his face, his head, with an "ouch" while the thin body immediately seized up beneath his hands.

"You are too tense, child." He softly said, ignoring the fact that the boy had his arms up again. "Try to relax and breathe deeply. The little mass you call muscles is like strings that got into thousands of knots and I have to loosen them before they get too tight."

It had taken him half an hour at least until he'd had the child relaxed and then asleep finally, but now he wiped his hands on a towel, freeing them of the massaging oil, on a clean towel and he remembered the bliss on the children's faces upon Poppy bringing them clean towels which they could use after a hot shower, before dressing in clean clothes – it had been pure bliss on their pale faces that night, as if they were in heaven.

"I will be down in the dungeons for an hour." He said to Minerva who had come visiting a few minutes ago. "Brewing a potion needed for …"

"Oh no, you won't, Severus!" That blasted woman interrupted him with her usual lack of tact and timing. "You will sit down and have a rest for once. I know Harry, and this boy can make the best of us despair even after having had a good night's rest. Without enough food and rest, who knows what you will turn into! Perhaps that boy would even make you smile and I highly doubt that many in this castle would survive _that_!"

"Harry does need this potion, woman, and I will brew it." He growled angrily. "And I will brew it right now so that next time the child has to go to bed he can do so without being in pain because there is nothing than skin between the mattress and his bones! Do you not think that there had been enough adults in that child's life already that had let him down and ignored his needs?"

And without waiting for an answer he strolled out of the infirmary room.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

He was running down the corridors on his way to the potions classroom, or to Snape's office, hoping to find the man in one of these rooms, trying to find the way but he had the feeling that the castle had changed, because everything down here in the dungeons looked so strange suddenly, so unknown and still he couldn't find Snape, but he knew that he needed the man, that he needed his father, because there was the stone he still held in his hands, dripping blood and poison down his hand, his fingers, and he shuddered while he tried to run faster.

If he just were not so damn weak and if he just would finally find the damn potions classroom!

They'd been down there for weeks and now he didn't find the blasted thing? How stupid was that?

A moment later there was Quirrel, demanding the stone from him and he shook his head, screaming at the man that he wouldn't get it. Quirrel then told him that he was on the wrong way anyway, that this corridor didn't lead to the potions classroom and he asked the man how he got there then.

And then Voldemort's face stuck out of Quirrel's head and waved at him, the hissing voice telling him the way but it wasn't the way to the potions classroom and he ended up in the chamber of secrets.

Looking around, startled, he wondered what he was supposed to do here. He already had saved Ginny, hadn't he? And he didn't see Ginny either, the girl was nowhere in sight, and neither was Tom Riddle and even Quirrel with Voldemort's face sticking out of his head was gone now and he was alone down here.

A moment later he felt something piercing his arm, but looking down at his arm he could find nothing there.

Instead there was the tip of the basilisk's fang sticking out of his chest and he even could feel the fang going through his body, from his back where it had entered, clearly somewhere between his shoulder blades, to his chest where it stuck out, covered with his blood and he immediately knew that he had to move.

He had to look for the Potions Master, for his dad, his dad surely could safe him, the man always had saved him, and the man was a Potions Master after all, a Potions Master who knew everything about poisons, so if anyone could safe him, then it was his dad. Somewhere in his mind he knew that his dad surely could do something about the poison if only the headmaster had told him, but he didn't understand that thought completely to begin with.

He could feel the poison already running through his body, through his veins, felt the coldness that claimed his body, could feel the weakness claiming him, could feel the heat replacing the coldness a moment later and he knew, he had to go to the dungeons classroom quickly now … if he only remembered the way.

All of a sudden Quirrel was back, but he wasn't really Quirrel anymore but turning into uncle Vernon who was beating him, who was locking him into his cupboard, telling him that he wouldn't get anything to eat for the next twenty-one days and still he hadn't found his dad and his dad didn't know that uncle Vernon had kidnapped him and locked him away and then his dad never would find him and …

What felt slightly off was the cool hand that suddenly lay on his forehead while he knew that hand, knew whom it belonged to, but that was ridiculous, because he couldn't understand what his dad was doing in his cupboard here …

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Come now, child!" He urged while placing his hand over the much too hot forehead of his son, scowling in his worry. A fever surely was the last thing he right now needed added to the child's general poor health. "Wake up, Harry, you are just dreaming, you are at Hogwarts and safe from your uncle."

"Dad …" The boy whispered, his voice rough and scratchy, the much too hot face blushed with the fever and he wondered how it had been able to climb so quickly and so high, during two hours only while he had brewed the potion that would keep the boy's skin from abrasions while laying in bed as thin as he was.

"You have a fever, Harry." He said, explaining. "You need to take this potion to bring it down and then I have a potion to rub into your skin so that the bed won't hurt anymore."

"It hurts …" The boy whispered. "Head an' … an' chest … the basilisk bit me …"

"No Harry, that was a dream only." He said while placing the vial with the fever reducer at the boy's mouth and dipping the vial, forcing the boy to swallow the liquid that ran into his mouth. "Here, child, drink some water." He then added, placing a glass of cold water at the boy's lips.

"You went 'way …" The boy accused and he frowned.

"I had a potion to brew and I am back now." He said, running a cold and wet cloth over the hot face of his son.

"Needed you." His son whispered and he sighed while turning the cloth, knowing that yes, the child was right, he would have needed him. Minerva had been here, yes, but Minerva was no medi-witch and of course she had not seen the fever coming on. He would have seen it and he could have given the fever reducer sooner.

"It was two hours only, son." He said, still wondering how that fever could have taken hold and run so high so quickly.

"But the basilisk … it told me that … that I'd die and its tooth stuck in my chest." The boy murmured, green eyes opening and looking over at him, glassy and unfocused. "All through from my back … but … but I couldn't find you … 'cause of the poison."

"There is no fang of a basilisk and no poison either, child." He soothed, dunking the cloth into the bowl with cold water and then running it over the child's calves. "It has been a dream and I am quite here."

"But it's … it's been there …" The boy frowned, clearly not understanding that it only had been a dream, massaging his right arm. "In my second … in my second year … bit my arm …"

Frowning himself he gently took the child's right wrist in his hand, examining the boy's arm and a moment later he actually gasped at the clearly visible spot were the basilisk's fang had been piercing the child's lower arm, running through to rupture on the other side.

So that had been no dream, not completely after all because the child had _really_ had been bitten by a basilisk!

Merlin!

How could Albus keep this a secret from him? He had been the resident Potions Master back then and even if Fawkes had healed the child's wound and neutralized the poison to the point where the boy would survive the basilisk's poison, he should have been informed immediately to have a look at the injury and to prevent further complications – such as a fever starting and then interacting with remaining poison that already was running through the child's veins for Merlin's sake!

The phoenix tears only could neutralize the poison that was in the wound still, but not the poison that already was running through someone's veins, remaining poison that wasn't strong enough to kill if the phoenix was quick enough but would remain in the body anyway and that would interact with some illnesses that under normal circumstances were harmless, like a light fever for example and he didn't wonder anymore how it was that this fever here was running so high after two hours only.

"My head hurts." The boy whispered while he wet the cloth again and then run it over his son's arms, his face grim.

"It shows that it is not as hard as we both thought." He growled, trying to make fun so that the boy would not notice his worry. Merlin, the boy was already weak enough and he was not out of the woods yet from their imprisonment for the past three weeks and now he had to fight with new troubles that threatened his already so weak life.

What had he gotten himself into by adopting this particular child that seemed to knock on Death's door at every turn he took?

"Can you get … can you get Fawkes, dad?" The boy asked, running his tongue over his dry lips and he placed the wet cloth at the child's chest before taking the glass and helping the boy to drink a few more sips of water.

"I could, but not now." He softly said. "Right now I expect you to drink and then sleep."

"But … the basilisk …"

"Is not here at the moment." He soothed, placing his hand at the boy's feverish eyes, closing them. "We will talk after you have slept and without a basilisk interfering our conversation."

break ... ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ... line

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued<strong>

**Next time in A few days more**

____Meeting parents, Death Eaters and the headmaster____

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too, thank you …

**House cup: **

At the present time it looks like this:

708 - Gryffindor - Head of House: Catlady

701 - Slytherin - Head of House: evil minded

576 - Ravenclaw - Head of House: Arithmancy Master

340 - Hufflepuff - Head of House: still a free post


	5. the big, blue stone eater

**Title:**

A few days more

Sequel to twenty-one days

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Fourth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

"A few days more" is the sequel to "Twenty-one days" – read and review this first or you wouldn't understand all that happens in this story.

The fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindors have survived their imprisonment in the potions classroom situated in the dungeons. How will they go on in all-day life after their survival? How will they manage to reintegrate into the castle's routine and their classes? How will they be able to go back to life at all? Watch how those who survived fight for their lives and for their peace, for their place in the community at Hogwarts.

**Disclaimer: **

Did you see Severus alive at the end of _'The deathly hallows'_? no?

Do you think I would have had him died if I had written those books? no?

Then you know that _'Harry Potter'_ does not belong to me … nor does Severus … regrettably … he belongs to J. K. Rowling …

But Hereweald Hrothgar does …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Added Author's Note:**

The rumours afloat on ff at the moment are very worrying, but I for myself only can say – I won't partake in the panic mongering because that won't do any good to begin with. Don't flood and spam the supporters because they only are doing what they have to do and filling their mailboxes to the brim until they explode and the letters are flying all around only will anger them and this won't help the situation at all.

It would be wiser to save what you have on ff, and hope, that at least is what I am doing because if they delete any story or my account, then I won't be able doing anything against it anyway … I have rated all my stories M because I think a younger child wouldn't understand the entirety of it, not what lays deeper than the obvious and therefore I refuse rating it lower … so they will either decide that it's alright, or they will delete my stories or even my entire account … we'll see what will happen …

I have created an account on adultfanfiction net, just in case, and you will find me there as evil-minded should my account here be deleted for whatever reason, but I really hope that I will not have to change the site because I do like fanfiction and I have loyal readers here which I would hate to disappoint …

I do thank all of you for your understanding and for your sanity in handling this matter maturely (M) or mature-adultly (MA) … :) …

**Warning:**

Story contains references to child abuse.

Child-abuse is a really serious thing, it is an evil thing and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help without being helped, and closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist, is no solution …

I only say - remind yourself of your feelings, of your sympathy, and of your understanding … and handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once being abused … with understanding and with help …

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me - I am …

* * *

><p>break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line<p>

**Previously in A few days more**

_"My head hurts." The boy whispered while he wet the cloth again and then run it over his son's arms, his face grim. _

_"It shows that it is not as hard as we both thought." He growled, trying to make fun so that the boy would not notice his worry. Merlin, the boy was already weak enough and he was not out of the woods yet from their imprisonment for the past three weeks and now he had to fight with new troubles that threatened his already so weak life. _

_What had he gotten himself into by adopting this particular child that seemed to knock on Death's door at every turn he took?_

_"Can you get … can you get Fawkes, dad?" The boy asked, running his tongue over his dry lips and he placed the wet cloth at the child's chest before taking the glass and helping the boy to drink a few more sips of water. _

_"I could, but not now." He softly said. "Right now I expect you to drink and then sleep."_

_"But … the basilisk …"_

_"Is not here at the moment." He soothed, placing his hand at the boy's feverish eyes, closing them. "We will talk after you have slept and without a basilisk interfering our conversation."_

**A few days more**

**Chapter five **

**Day five – twenty-seventh of September – Friday**

**The big, blue stone eater**

"Remember please, to take a deep breath the moment your parents enter the room and to stay calm, never mind what idiot questions they might ask." He said while having them all gathered together in the back yard of the hospital wing for breakfast, even if they normally did take their meals inside. "They were not there, those twenty-one days, they do not know the routine we all have settled in and there might be things they won't understand."

Well, in an hour they would go down to the room to await the parents Minerva and Albus would bring over, but before that chaos would break loose, he kept them outside for at least breakfast so that they could relax a bit and prepare themselves for the onslaught that awaited them soon.

"Yeah, like why we all would sleep mixed up on the mats." Neville groaned, knowing that his grandmother wouldn't like _this_.

Augusta Longbottom was an old and old-style witch, very straight and strict in her attitudes and he already knew that – them sleeping on mats that were shoved together, Slytherins and Gryffindors mixed up as well as boys and girls mixed up, it was something Augusta Longbottom would not approve of, and neither would one or another of the other parents. But well, back then he'd had the survival of the children on his mind and surely not any inappropriate sleeping arrangement as they didn't have any sexual actions on their minds anyway, they had been busy with staying as warm as possible, and with worrying and trying to stay alive.

"Merlin!" Daphne gasped. "I fear my uncles will kill me. They won't be too happy about that either."

"I will handle your uncles, Daphne, do not worry about them." He said, knowing how to take the Greengrass brothers, Death Eaters in lower ranks, easy to get them intimidated and easy to handle even if he had all three of them in front of him at once.

"I still hope that my father won't come." Draco whispered and he looked over at the boy, understanding. Lucius Malfoy had led the attack that had been the reason for their imprisonment and of course Draco did not look forwards to seeing the man now.

"I do not know if he will, but Albus has planned to invite him, so I suggest that you prepare for your father strolling into the room and like always disregarding anything Albus had asked of him before bringing him over." He said, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "I will be there, as will Filius, Minerva, Hereweald and Albus. Only Pomona will be absent to have an eye on the remainder of the student body. You won't be alone with him."

"If mom went to Mr. Goyle and Mr. Crabbe, then I don't see a reason as to why he should come in the first place." The boy whined and for once he could understand the child's whining without being annoyed. "He's never cared before either."

"Because he still is your father, Draco, he has sired you." He said, eliciting a frustrated sigh from the boy. "And you are still the Malfoy heir, bearing his name."

"Does that mean … does that mean that my aunt and uncle will …" Harry asked, startled, his face nearly white and his voice choked, unable to finish the sentence, and he quickly went over to the boy, to his son, sitting into the chair beside the boy and leaning towards his son.

"Your relatives will not be there." He clearly said, his dark eyes piercing the child. "They might be your aunt and your uncle still, and they always will be, never mind what, because Petunia Dursley is your mother's sister and Vernon Dursley has married Petunia Dursley. No one can change this fact, they always will be your aunt and uncle, your relatives, but you are _my_ son! They have no rights over you any more and they have no right to see you if you do not wish to see them. Do you wish to see them?"

"Wha- …? NO!" The boy gasped, green eyes wide, giving the pale and bony face with the sunken eyes an even more ghostlike appearance and he nearly chuckled at the shocked expression. Well, he had at least taken the strain from them with his question as most of them started chuckling at the boy's startled outburst.

"I thought so." He drawled in his best Snape-manner while he watched his son's small and scrawny form, somehow knowing that the boy would never be as tall as others were, never mind what he tried now, those years during which the child had been denied everything, including food, enough light and playing in fresh air, he never would be able to replace them, never mind how much he would try now.

And despite the miraculous survival as a result of the child's own magic – or the Lord's will – and he was sure that one of these twohad been the only things that had kept Harry alive in the end. Even though they had been unable of performing any magic down in the dungeons during their imprisonment, as they all had still had their own magical core as they were wizards and a magical core couldn't be turned off and on, it just was there, always – well, despite the child's miraculous survival he didn't like the glassy and dilated look of Harry's eyes, nor the shivers that every so often wracked the pitiful small and thin frame, despite the multiple warming charms he had cast on the air, their beds and blankets.

It only showed how weak and ill the child still was and it only showed how long it would take to get the child back to health, and mentally as well as physically, because the boy didn't even _seem_ to notice it if he were cold, just taking the coldness as an unchangeable fact, accepting it the way it was like he accepted so many other things.

"So, they won't be there?" Harry asked, as if he needed this bit of confirmation, a clear answer instead of a sarcastic one and he sighed.

"No, they won't be there, Harry." He answered. "And even if they were, then be assured that I would _not_ allow them near you, that I in fact would remove them from the room before they even were able to utter any of the lies they had beaten into this stubborn head of yours."

"'k." The boy made, his pale face blushing, causing irregular red blotches to appear. "Thanks."

Leaning back in the chair and taking the last sip of his meanwhile cold coffee he grimaced, realizing that maybe he should have cast a warming charm over his cup.

But well, he had to admit that he simply wasn't used to having his meals together with a horde of children that asked annoying questions and therefore kept him from drinking his cup of coffee in nearly one go like he usually did at the head table in the great hall, the other teachers knowing to better leave him alone in the early morning hours before pouring a second cup of coffee which he drank slower, enjoying the bitter taste of the black brewage.

It was different here.

Here there was one child that needed him so he wouldn't eat too hastily and too much in one go, there was another child that needed him to watch out so that he ate enough at all and there was another child again that needed him to explain why healthy food was important in the first place while again another child needed him to talk to so his mind was off the eating matter at all while they all needed him for the stomach soothing potions and to remind them of the small things that were so important, that were so normal for other children while they had become strange things for _them_.

And the closest eye he definitely had to have on Harry.

This child was actually driving him mad with his eating habits, and over the past few days he slowly had realized that his son suffered from a general eating disorder that had not only been caused by their imprisonment for twenty-one days, but by the starvation he'd had to endure at the hands of his relatives for not only the first eleven years of his life but for each summer holidays since he had come to Hogwarts too.

"The needless worry over your relatives' presence should not keep you from finishing your breakfast as no one will leave this table before not all of you have eaten at least enough to my satisfaction in the first place, never mind whose parents are present and whose are not, and that goes for you too, Theodore and Parvati." He drawled, reminding all of them at the next rule they had installed two days ago.

It was a simple rule – they all needed a sense of togetherness still, they all needed to know that they were not alone with their problems and so they all had agreed upon staying at the table until all of them had eaten enough in Snape's opinion, knowing that it would be unfair if one of them had to stay at the table alone to fight with the food while the others were playing or doing whatever they wanted to do. They didn't have to finish their plates or bowls, in fact, he had stopped the house elves sending up filled plates or bowls for each of them at all but had them sending up plates and pots so the children had to take the food themselves.

That made it more difficult for him, because he had to have a closer eye on them to make sure that all of them took enough, but it made it easier for the children and it helped Harry in learning to take food himself instead of just taking what was given to him, what was a huge problem for his son he soon had realized.

Harry indeed had during their first meals only eaten what had been given to him instead of taking anything by himself and after the elves had sent up plates and pots the boy had been sitting there, staring at the table, scared and unsurely, but not daring to take anything at all and he'd actually had to sit beside him and to tell him that he should take any of the food, which the child only slowly and hesitantly had done, unsurely looking over at him as if he expected a punishment for taking the food. And considering the child's upbringing, he guessed to even know the punishment the child expected, realizing – again – that he would have to fight a few severe battles until the child could live a somewhat normal life.

And well, the situation would complicate even more soon enough, when they were in the great hall finally, where he wouldn't be able having an eye as close on them and their eating habits – or lack thereof – as he had here, where he was sitting at the head table instead of with them together, but he knew that somehow he would manage, he always had managed, each year when the students were back after the holidays, each year when there were new students in his house which were abused or neglected, and he would manage with _them_ too now.

After all, he already had made plans for them to sign their names after each meal they had partaken in so that not only they could see each other being still a group, even if sitting at two different house tables, but so that they also could see where they all stood at the moment – and for him to have at least a small clue about their health concerning meals.

He also had made a new timetable for the fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindors, had cancelled any unnecessary or even ridiculous subject like divination and history of magic for now and had inserted PE once a day. He also had appointed them time for just sitting together and he had asked for Poppy's permission to use this very room they were staying in since five days now, as it was large enough for all of them and as it was private, closed off the main room of the hospital wing. They could meet here in the evenings to talk about whatever it was they needed to talk about – or to just sitting together.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"How could you!" Augusta Longbottom screeched while entering the room and Severus inwardly sighed already. "Nearly a week, headmaster!"

"It's been five days already and you didn't think it necessary informing us, headmaster?" Narcissa's voice followed, calmer and more collected, and he furrowed his brows in anger. Had Albus not cleared those issues before he had brought the parents down here? In his office so that they could step in front of their children calmly? Had that not been the reason as to _why_ they had waited so long in the first place before bringing the children and the parents together? So that those imbeciles of parents wouldn't startle and exhaust their children while they needed rest and calmness still?

"I swear to you, I'll have your head, Albus!" Was Molly's comment while entering the room and already he could see a pattern, the Slytherin parents being more subtle while the Gryffindor parents were like – a true Gryffindor – emotional and daring without showing common sense, patience or manners.

A moment later hell broke loose when eleven women and six men stormed into the room, the Gryffindor ladies being the first ones that were storming towards their children – or grandchildren – and the Slytherin parents following with a bit more grace but all of them clearly upset and he actually had to take a step towards them when he noticed some of the children taking a step back, clearly startled – and some even scared.

Had Albus no sense in his mind? They had agreed upon getting the parents one by one and not all at the same time, for Merlin's sake, of course the children were startled!

A moment later there was a shield keeping the parents from actually running the children over.

"A bit more quietness and a bit slower please, ladies." Filius' squeaky voice was heard, the small charms teacher having cast the shield, and he actually had to smirk inwardly. Small Filius Flitwick keeping a horde of worried mothers in line – that was a sight to behold.

"Filius!"

"Professor!"

"Headmaster!"

"Do something, Albus!"

Well, the outburst was very colourful and he sighed taking another step forwards.

"I do understand your worries and I do understand your need to see for yourself that your children are alive and as well as can be in the situation given, but these children have been alone since more than three weeks, they have been locked away and seemingly forgotten, they have missed food, warmth, human contact and other voices than their own, so – with all human sense used, do you not think that you startle them with your Gryffindor rush, ladies and gentlemen?" He asked, his eyebrow lifted. "I am sure that you are able smothering your children without killing them because of either a heart attack or choking them to death."

Well, another moment later he had a horde of guiltily looking women in front of him, giving away a nod towards Filius to lift the shield, to allow those parents to approach their children and to crush them finally with their embraces, and he watched them closely, ready to step in the moment he noticed one parent or another not understanding one thing or another and acting upon the misunderstanding while he noticed that Filius and Minerva did the same.

Albus was – dumb to emotional human needs as he was – calling for tea and cookies, asking parents and children alike if they wanted lemon drops and he actually took a proud – and relieved – breath of air when the children declined, knowing that the sweet only would upset their still too weak stomachs.

Poppy was having a close eye on the children themselves, on their reactions and Pomona, when once looking in and the true Hufflepuff she was, was close to tears at the emotional display.

One thing however confused him first before he actually got upset.

Harry had looked over the crowd of parents, one time, two times, _three_ times even, the scared green eyes searching the people present, as if he had to make sure his relatives really were not there and he had known that the child would, as much as he had promised the boy that they would not be there, that even he would throw them out of the room if they just showed up, not to mention that they had not been informed, but he had known that the child would look over the crowd of parents, that he would need this personal confirmation, that he would need to see for himself that they were not there.

But then the boy's eyes had gone disappointed for a moment, as if – and again he had stared to understand.

Despite all that they had done to the child, despite all of the abuse and starvation, despite their cruelly and despite their hate of the child, despite everything – Harry wanted them to love him, to accept him, to be a family to him and this knowledge had him nearly seething. Not at Harry, but at _them_ as it showed – despite everything, Harry always had tried to please them, to make things right and to do well, while never mind how good he had been, they never had seen it, they never had accepted it – and still the child had tried.

"Come here, child." He softly said, waving the boy closer and then watching his son taking a few unsure steps towards him and he simply reached over the moment the boy was close enough, pulling his son close until the boy rested with his forehead against his chest.

"A new addition to your family, Severus?"

Well, it was a voice that he would recognize everywhere and he turned towards Lucius Malfoy who had his hand on Draco's shoulder, the boy clearly being uncomfortable while Narcissa stood behind them, clearly looking scared.

"Indeed." He said, knowing that it could be dangerous and he tightened the grip he had on Harry's shoulder while he overlooked the room. "He has proved to be a true Snape, tough, patient and persistent – more a Slytherin than some others are and strange bonds have formed in a dire situation."

Well, Neville was sitting with his grandmother at one table and Hermione was sitting with her mother and together with Ronald and his mother at another table. Theodore was with his father, as his mother had not come and Poppy was ushering them to a seat this moment. Vincent and Gregory were with their fathers, Vence and Gordon looking over at Draco and Narcissa every now and then, apparently making sure that Lucius didn't do something foolish, and he knew that he could trust in them when it came to Draco's safety as they already had taken in the boy's mother.

"I beg to differ, my dear Severus." Lucius Malfoy said and he lifted his eyebrow at the politician. "If he were a true Slytherin, then he would care a bit more about his appearance. But a T-shirt too large and trousers that could fit a whale? Not to mention even the mixed socks, I am surprised that those – _clothes_ – are not stained, if one could call those rags clothes. You really should care more for your son's attire."

"Why do you not go and help Poppy with preparing the potions you will need in the evening, Harry?" He asked, giving the boy a small push towards the matron while he waved Draco over at the same time, the boy very willingly leaving his father's side and going over to him. "You too, Draco, and I am sure that your mother has not choked you to death yet, too." He added while giving the blond boy the same small shove into the same direction.

He watched both boys walking over to the matron and a moment later he turned back towards the Malfoy aristocrat.

"Do not try to play a game, Lucius." He softly hissed at the man. "You know as well as do I that the information about me being a spy for Dumbledore is revealed since the – speeches on the dead a few days ago and so I won't even deny it. I however warn you, Lucius, you better leave right now and not come back, because if you go on with intimidating my son, then I can promise you – I will give a few informations to the ministry of magic. You are friends of one ministry worker or another, are you not? You do realize that you have a reputation to uphold, do you not? A reputation that could be destroyed easily. You leave alone my family and I will leave alone yours. Leave this room if we have a deal, stay – if we have none."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Let your godfather handle the situation, Draco, Severus will manage." Narcissa said, leading both boys towards one of the sofas. "He always has handled your father and one or another ridiculous notion he's had in his head, the reason as to why I have made him your godfather. You better tell me how you are faring. You have become friends with Mr. Potter, I heard?"

"I am alright, mother." Draco said while the Potter boy was looking unsurely. "And yes, Harry and I have become friends. I think we all have become friends, one way or another but Harry and Neville have become close friends."

"The Longbottom family as well as the Potter family bear great names, Draco."

"I'm friends with Hermione too." Draco said in a mixture of self-defence and testing the waters and Narcissa nearly laughed, now that she finally was free from Lucius and had back her son.

"Granger is the name, isn't it?" She asked, looking over at the girl with the bushy hair. She had heard a lot about this girl, the best in her year despite the fact that she was a muggle-born witch, muggle-raised too and she always had wondered why that girl was not in Ravenclaw. "True friendship does not stop at a name uttered, Draco, and a wealthy family name does not promise close friendship automatically. Your father has given you the best of education when it came to manners, pure-blood standards and knowledge, but maybe it is time now to change a few believes."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Have you been arguing, Ron?" Molly asked after she had made sure personally that Ron was alright, crying over the boy actually and she was sure that Severus would call her an emotional fool, but Severus was busy with Malfoy. "Harry has not been with you since I'm here and you seem so lost somehow."

"They have not been arguing, Molly." She heard Severus' voice and quickly she turned towards the man, looking up into a much too pale face, realizing that the man didn't fare better than Ron or the other kids did. "But they have been through hell during the past three weeks and in such a time strange things can happen with us, friendships are forming and reforming, people change and children find new places in their lives. They do what they have to do in order to fare as well as possible so that they might survive. Harry has found new friends and a family as has Ronald, but that does not mean that their old friendship has stopped. It just has changed levels and while Harry has found his family who will be there for him and love him, Ronald will need his right now."

Well, Lucius had left the room, clearly knowing that he better did not challenge him, Severus Snape – at least not now – but he knew that he would have to be careful, because he knew that Lucius Malfoy would search for a way to safely destroy him – and with him Harry.

Harry had been sitting with Draco and Narcissa Malfoy, pale and clearly unsure, but he trusted Narcissa enough to make the right decision – or she would not have Harry sitting with her and Draco in the first place. It had been Molly who had looked over at Harry every now and then that worried him more right now.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Have you brushed your teeth every morning and every evening, boy?" Augusta Longbottom asked, looking her grandson over. The boy looked too thin, really! But well, that had to be expected after three weeks without food and – despite everything she couldn't help feeling a small pull of something akin to pride. The boy had survived a Death Eater attack that had caused their three week long imprisonment. But well, she also knew that her Frank would have survived just as well.

"Yes, granny." The boy said and she scowled at the boy. He really should know by now that she didn't like being called 'granny' and the boy was too old for such a childish talk too anyway,

"Have you taken a shower or at least washed your body too, boy?" She asked, still scowling.

"Of course, granny." The boy answered and she sighed.

"Have you been modest and decent, boy?" She asked, frowning at the blush that came over the pale face.

"Of course they have been, Augusta." She heard Severus' voice from behind and smiling she turned towards the man.

Severus was a harsh man, not liked by many, but she should have known that if the children were with him, then they of course would be modest and decent because the man was a modest and decent man and really, Mr. Potter could be very proud, having become the son of Severus Snape. Yes, she had heard about the Potions Master adopting the boy.

"I had them closer to each other than I liked because I needed seventeen children as close to a small fire as possible, but I of course have watched them closely and believe me, the more days had passed the more was their survival important than any improper relation to which they didn't have any energy left anyway."

"Of course, Severus." She said, very satisfied with the situation. She knew – if Severus had watched them, then a hawk had watched them. "Nothing else had I expected of you and I only can thank you for your keeping all those children alive, you don't know how happy I am about not having lost my grandson too. I just hope that the boy has not given you any troubles during all those days, I know how clumsy and inept he can be at times."

"On the contrary Augusta." Severus said and she frowned at the man. She knew her grandson after all. "Neville has proven much worth, strength, help and understanding and he has been very brave indeed, you should be proud of your grandson. He at least has earned my respect and I for my part am very proud of the boy."

Unable to give an answer she couldn't help pulling the boy close, the small pull of something akin to pride swelling to a storm of pride that threatened to wash over her, because if a man like Severus Snape stated that he was proud of someone, that someone has earned his respect, then that meant more than just a lot. She knew Severus Snape since many, many years now, Severus and Frank having been – something like friends, and she knew how hard it was to please _that_ particular man.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"You disgust me, Donald." He softly hissed at the youngest Greengrass, leaning close to the man. "Have you no sense of decency? You really imagine the children might have touched because they have been sleeping in front of the only warm place available? They are children, you imbecile, and their only worries had been their survival!"

"Slytherins and Gryffindors together, Severus!" Henry growled at him and he glared at the man. "Young men and young women mixed together!"

"They are fourteen year old children and surely not considered as young men or women, you idiot, or would you have your niece living together with her fiancé already?" He asked, hissing just at softly at the oldest of those idiot brothers. "I thought so." He growled at the man's headshaking. "Of course you would not have them living together yet because they are too young for such. Not _they_ are dirty but _you_ if your mind can think of nothing than carnal interaction whenever one human being meets another."

"You could not have watched them 24 hours during those three weeks, Severus, that's impossible!"

"Interesting that you are even able vocalizing such a word as impossible, Mr. Greengrass, and here I always thought that your vocabulary is limited to words with one or two syllables only." Augusta Longbottom's voice nearly caused him to chuckle, not knowing if it was a good thing having her entering the – _'discussion'_, because he already had her calmed about the children having been 'modest and decent' and with the Greengrass brother's worries they might infect her again.

"That's at least more than your son is able uttering, Longbottom." Donald Greengrass chuckled and in a flash he had the man gripped on the front of his shirt, had him pinned against the wall.

"Frank Longbottom still has more brain in his head than you ever had or will have, even after he has been tortured by you." He hissed. "And now I suggest that you leave this room before I have to turn violent and throw you out of here in front of the children's eyes."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Sir?" Harry asked, carefully, looking up at him unsurely and it wasn't lost on him that Harry had gone back to calling him 'sir' or 'Professor' since at least an hour now. He barely had been called 'dad' or 'Severus' – and he'd lost it at every turn the child took when being unsure or scared.

"Yes, Harry?" He asked, taking in the pale face, paler than it had been lately, and the tired eyes.

"Don' feel so well." The child softly said and he nodded.

It had been barely three hours since he had brought the children down here and then their parents had been allowed in, but for these children it had been a long day and he could see the signs of exhaustion in most of their faces already.

Ronald actually had fallen asleep on the sofa, his head resting in his mother's lap, as had Blaise, leaning against his father – or rather step-father, and Tracy had excused herself half an hour ago, coming back after clearly having thrown up while Parvati was running her hand over her face every so often, clearly having a headache starting and Draco was sitting there with his hand laying over his stomach, loosely as it seemed so that he wouldn't startle his mother, but he knew that the boy's stomach had started cramping, as had Harry's.

"Alright." He said, placing his hand on the boy's shoulder and pulling him close before straightening and overlooking the room. "Tracy, Daphne, Draco, Theodore, Parvati and Harry, you come with me back to the hospital wing. Minerva, please bring Blaise and Ronald to the infirmary the moment they wake up, and please do not allow them to thwart you, it is necessary as they are clearly exhausted, what is the reason as to why I do not wish to wake them right now. Filius and Hereweald, please accompany the rest of them to the infirmary the moment the parents have left but for dinner at the latest. I can trust that you will stay here with the rest of them to ensure their wellbeing while I am gone, Poppy?"

An immediate "of course, Severus" was heard by Minerva and Filius upon his suggestion and an annoyed "did you think anything else of me?" was heard from Poppy upon his question but he didn't care about her annoyance. He had the children's wellbeing in his mind, all their wellbeing and nothing else.

"Very well, then let us go back." He said, leading six children out of the room.

It was startling, that nearly half of the group barely managed three hours of being out of _'their room'_ and together with their parents.

It had been very chaotically and very stressful during the first few minutes, the parents storming towards their children, and even after Filius' shield nearly choking them to death with not only their embraces but with their questions and tears too. But after that the situation had eased up considerably and he had been able to keep the strain off the children by halfway listening to all the conversations around him and to then interfere whenever the conversations had become dangerous.

Well, he would bring them back and he would have them to bed early and as soon as they were back to classes next week, well, they wouldn't visit all classes at once anyway.

And now the children were tiredly sitting or laying on their beds. He had given Harry and Draco a stomach soothing potion, as well as Tracy, and Parvati he had provided with a headache potion. Daphne had fallen asleep as soon as they had come back to their room in the infirmary, clearly exhausted by the strain her uncles had bestowed upon her and the others were sitting or laying on their beds, tiredly, some of them clearly looking guilty, like Draco and Harry, and like Theodore.

He was just about to get up and disabuse them of their notion about being at fault for anything when it was – again – Harry who started speaking to get them all off their minds, and with a question he actually couldn't find an answer to.

"What is big, blue, sits about twenty-five yards down the earth and eats stones?" The boy asked.

The other children were sitting there, wracking their brains over what it could be – as did he, by the way, even if he didn't show it as plainly as did the children, but even if his life depended on it, he didn't know the answer.

Not that he though it was important, it surely wasn't, because the children always had come up with one or another nonsense while they had been imprisoned, just to lift their spirits, but he was curious about the answer anyway.

After many headshaking from the others, many sighs after the headshaking had not worked and then after their "alright, we don't know, just tell us" Harry seemed to have pity on them.

"Well, it's the big, blue stone eater of course." The boy said, not really satisfying him with this answer because – there was no big blue stone eater, but well, if the boy was happy with such ridiculous things, then be it, the big, blue stone eater it was then.

break ... ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ... line

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued<strong>

**Next time in A few days more**

_____First time meetings _…____

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too, thank you …

**House cup: **

At the present time it looks like this:

708 - Gryffindor - Head of House: Catlady

701 - Slytherin - Head of House: evil minded

576 - Ravenclaw - Head of House: Arithmancy Master

340 - Hufflepuff - Head of House: still a free post


	6. first time meetings

**Title:**

A few days more

Sequel to twenty-one days

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Fourth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

"A few days more" is the sequel to "Twenty-one days" – read and review this first or you wouldn't understand all that happens in this story.

The fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindors have survived their imprisonment in the potions classroom situated in the dungeons. How will they go on in all-day life after their survival? How will they manage to reintegrate into the castle's routine and their classes? How will they be able to go back to life at all? Watch how those who survived fight for their lives and for their peace, for their place in the community at Hogwarts.

**Disclaimer: **

Did you see Severus alive at the end of _'The deathly hallows'_? no?

Do you think I would have had him died if I had written those books? no?

Then you know that _'Harry Potter'_ does not belong to me … nor does Severus … regrettably … he belongs to J. K. Rowling …

But Hereweald Hrothgar does …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Warning:**

Story contains references to child abuse.

Child-abuse is a really serious thing, it is an evil thing and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help without being helped, and closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist, is no solution …

I only say - remind yourself of your feelings, of your sympathy, and of your understanding … and handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once being abused … with understanding and with help …

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me - I am …

* * *

><p>break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line<p>

**A few days more**

**Chapter six **

**Day six – twenty-eighth of September – Saturday **

**First time meetings**

"Are you ready?" Severus asked when coming into the room from having visited Poppy's office for a few minutes, looking over at the children that sat on the beds and looking as if they felt all dressed up and nowhere to go – simply lost – and he could see one or another headshake, Harry's being amongst them.

"I thought you wanted to go." He said, picking up the cardigan he'd had Zilly getting him just the day before, after realizing that Harry had nothing in his trunk that was even _close_ to being called proper clothing, reaching the piece of cloth at his son.

"I do, but I … it's … well, it's just that today it's warm outside and I'm wearing a long-sleeved pullover and a jacket. No one else does." The boy said and he sighed, knowing what the child meant.

"Draco does, and Theodore too, as well as Parvati and Tracy and even Adrian does wear warmer clothes than the remainder of the student body would during this time of the year, Harry." He said, looking over the child's clothes, a pair of blue Jeans, a black hoodie with long sleeves and pockets, knowing that the boy wore a T-shirt beneath as well as warm undergarments and socks – most likely mixed socks again – and shoes that rather reminded at hiking boots than the shoes that were required at Hogwarts, clothes that – even if hanging on the skeletal frame strangely – were well-fitting and the boy liked them – but they were winter clothes.

"Adrian is younger and Parvati and Tracy are girls, they're bound to freeze." The boy said and it was clear that he kept himself from sounding whining. "And Draco and Theodore don't wear a cardigan, not even their pullovers are as warm as is mine."

"With a reason, Harry." He said, holding out the cardigan for Harry to slip into the sleeves. "None of the two have been as close to death as have you and none of them have lost as much weight as have you. You are a fourteen year old boy and your average weight should be between 110 and 115 pounds, Harry. Do you want to know your current weight? No? I will tell you nevertheless, because you have to realize how very dangerous it were to gamble with your health right now. Your current weight is 50 pounds, that would be the average weight of a seven year old child, Harry, and even if we go below average, as much as humanly defensible below average, then it still would be the weight of a very light nine year old child but surely not of a fourteen year old and I fear it even will be impossible to _ever_ get you up to 110 pounds. I fear we will be very happy if we can get you up to 80 or 90 pounds what will be the weight of a very slight fourteen year old boy – if we are lucky. Do you start to understand my worries now? I personally will not risk _anything_, Harry."

"Yes, sir." The boy said, chewing on his lips. "Sorry, sir."

"Stop that." He said, reaching over to pull the boy's lips from beneath his teeth. This child was one of the most fidgety students he had ever taught at Hogwarts.

Except for Emma.

**Flashback**

_"Stay behind, please, Miss Black." He said while the students collected their things to leave his classroom. _

_The girl looked over at him with a gaze he couldn't name for a moment, but before he could, his first year student looked away, gathering her things and stuffing them into her bag that clearly was in a chaotically disarray. A few moments later the children had left his classroom, the Gryffindors with much noise, clearly being angry about the loss of points he'd taken from Creevey for trying to take photos in his class, the nerve of the boy. _

_"I have noticed you missing breakfast this morning, Miss Black, on the very first day of term already." He then said when the girl stood in front of his desk, nervously fidgeting with the strap of her book bag while shuffling her feet. "Any explanation to that?"_

_"Jus' didn' wanna eat with 'em." The girl answered in a terribly growled dialect, blue eyes blazing with something he realized was self-defence, the girl – rightfully so – fearing she were in trouble for missing meals. _

_"I do not care what you want or not, Miss Black, you will partake in all meals provided at Hogwarts." He said, knowing that he had to make his point before he could move on to any reasons the girl might have. "And for any future conversations, I would prefer it if you used a bit more proper speech. You are not three anymore but a young girl with eleven years and I can expect no less."_

_"Yes, sir." The girl answered, even if clearly unhappy, but he nodded his approval._

_"Now, if I might ask, what is your reasoning for not wanting to eat with them?" He then asked._

_"Dunno." The girl answered. "They don' like me."_

_"Any idea as to why not?" He asked, frowning, but this time the girl only shrugged her shoulders. _

_"Don' care …" The girl then mumbled, her face angry.  
><em>

_"I don't think that this is the truth, Miss Black, or you would not miss meals because of it." He said, lifting his eyebrow, but again the girl only shrugged her shoulders.  
><em>

_"I have noticed that you have written more than the required foot of homework about the chapter I have appointed to read during class – while you have not even read the chapter to begin with. May I have a look on your work as I am curious about your day's work."_

**End flashback**

Well, if he had thought that the girl had not written anything about the chapter on healing abilities of some potions but one or another nonsense, seeing that she hadn't read the chapter after all, then he'd been very wrong because the child had written a sixth year essay about the healing abilities of not just some potions in general but with examples of several different potions – and not only concerning the content but concerning the eloquence of her writing too, which clearly was very much more eloquent than her speaking abilities.

"Would you rather wear something else?" He asked the boy, already going through the child's wardrobe and what of the atrocious clothes he could transfigure into something more appropriate for the great hall.

"No, sir." The boy then sighed, defeated. "I'd only freeze then and everyone would see that I'm a scarecrow too. I hate this!"

"I know that you do." He softly said. "But we will be able changing it if we work hard on your eating habits. It won't be easy and it won't change from day one to day two, neither will we be able undoing the damage done to you by your relatives completely, do not make mistakes here, but it is possible to change it to begin with."

**Flashback**

_"I will have you tested by a healer from St. Mungo's as soon as possible, Miss Black." He said after having had a discussion with the girl about the essay she had just written, a discussion that was worth one with any Potions Master. "I start to see the problem here, but I will nevertheless have a healer in this too. After that we will decide how to continue with your education."_

_"You'll have me in a higher grade class?" The girl asked, seriously and he sighed._

_"No, Miss Black, I won't." He then answered, the girl's face already getting dark again._

_"But I don' see a reason why I should reduce my learning to things I've learned years ago already!" The girl whined, clearly upset. "I don' understand! It's like going back to being a baby! It's … it's …"_

_"It is frustrating, am I correct, Miss Black?" He asked, trying to sound friendly instead of annoyed. _

_"Yeah …" The girl made, clearly close to tears._

_"In keeping you in your class, I clearly do reduce your learning when it comes to your knowledge, yes, but at the same time it will give you the chance to learn interacting with your classmates and to learn how to interact with other human beings, because I am sure that this is your initial problem. You are over-intelligent, Miss Black, clearly a genius and I am sure that I could ask you any question and would gain a correct answer, but you clearly show signs of autism and I would do no good in getting you off your class now. You will have to learn patience, you will have to learn to take a step back and you will have to learn how to rest your brain as well as how to handle other people – you have the chance doing so while you are here and you will have my help in this, if you are willing."_

**End flashback**

Well, he'd had the girl tested and the healer from St. Mungo's had confirmed his suspicions – Emma Black clearly _did_ bear signs of autism and together they had made a timetable for the girl, one that had her keeping her familiar habits while it at the same time dared her to leave her accustomed things in life.

She, for example, partook in all of her regular classes, but only for thirty minutes out of forty-five and during her prolonged breaks she had to leave her school supplies alone, only listening to the teacher's lecture if there was one, or resting if possible, resting her mind as well as resting her body because she had to learn how to rest her brain – and he knew, any break was just as strenuous for the girl as was any lesson to the normal student body.

"Come now." He finally said. "The headmaster and the other teachers are waiting. The students are not at the great hall yet and so it will be peaceful enough for you to have your breakfast there. It is important for you to get used to the routine at Hogwarts again, Harry, and I promise you that none of the teachers will remark your appearance."

Frowning he wondered if Harry didn't have one or another trait that was bordering on autism too, the boy clearly being highly intelligent and talented when it came to his spell-work, never mind in which area, but – apparently – inept in his more practical lessons, except for Quidditch where he could act out his need for movement while at the same time the boy was unable to read a clock if it was not digital, to tie his shoes, to tell his right hand from his left hand and to read music, he had tested this already – which were all things that were connected with each other in one's brain.

Getting the child to try something new – during the past few days he had learned the hard way that this was nearly impossible, though the boy had soon been getting used to the new routine in the dungeons, seeing that after his summer holidays and getting abused and starved by his relatives the child of course would settle into _any_ routine that was not theirs, but then Harry had stuck to this routine – as well as to his own bowl, his own glass and even the spoon. He always had used the same one, refusing to use any other if one of the other children had taken this particular spoon already.

Added to this came the child's habit of pulling back into himself at times, so deeply that his friends were unable pulling him out of it and he only could remember something Minerva had mentioned in the staff room at the beginning of the child's first year.

**Flashback**

_"I swear, that boy lay in the back of the classroom on the floor, playing with pieces of chalk he used as persons, and I only can guess that he had forgotten about being in school at all!" Minerva said the moment he entered the staff room and he frowned, wondering which imbecile it had been this time, surely none of her lions or she wouldn't be so annoyed and surely not one of his Slytherins as they wouldn't pull such a stunt. _

_"Why didn't you remind him then, Minerva?" Filius asked._

_"I did, but I was unable to pull him out of his playing, he didn't even notice me or what I said to him, nor anything that happened around him." Minerva answered and he frowned. This clearly sounded as if it were an attention deficit disorder, and one that already bordered on autism. _

_"You should have summoned the chalk then, Minerva, that would have gotten the imbecile's attention." He huffed at the woman, not ready to share his concerns yet._

_"I did." She said, sounding strangely upset. "The result was anything than pleasant and next time I'll just let him have the chalk to play with."_

**End flashback**

Back then he hadn't asked who the _"he"_ had been, but in later months and years he often had thought that Minerva had been talking about Harry, about the Potter boy as he back then had still thought, because he too had seen signs of autism in the child's appearance, some movements he made being always the exact same as if following a hidden routine while he knew that it wasn't actual autism when it came to Harry – he just would have to take a closer look into the matter, maybe ask a healer at St. Mungo's. What he however definitely could say was, that it was not something he'd been born with but something that had been caused by the abuse the child had lived with at the Dursleys' household, because he knew that in neither James' nor in Lily's family was any such disorder he could have inherited.

The others so far had left Harry alone when he was so unresponsive, but he now had ordered them to get him, Snape, if that happened and he would then decide if it were better to pull him out of it – and he meanwhile knew how – or to allow him this moment.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Good morning." Albus greeted them and he grimaced at the bright happiness in the older wizard's voice. It was too early to deal with an overenthusiastic headmaster right now and he sighed while leading Harry inside the great hall where Albus had banished the four house tables and had placed one large table in the middle of the hall so that they could all sit together comfortably and without worries, and he was glad that for once the old wizard had heeded his suggestion. "I'm so glad to see all of you up and well, really, we've …"

"Good morning, Albus." He said, falling into the headmaster's words. The last thing the children right now needed was feeling guilty because the headmaster had been worried together with the entire staff. "Maybe you allow the children to have their seats before you startle them to death, and breakfast before that would not be amiss either. If you please moved over, Minerva, so that I can have some of the children sitting opposite me or I would be unable watching them, thank you."

He knew that they would have troubles the moment they arrived at the great hall with the entire student body and all four house tables in place, and he was glad that he didn't have to deal with this right now. Right now it was only one table and the teachers present. He placed Harry into a comfortable chair on the right side of Albus and then he sat to the right of the boy where he could make sure the child ate enough while he also would be able to judge if the boy became too tired. The child was not well to begin with, having a fever in the evening since two days now, a fever that was gone in the morning, just to come back in the evening hours and he was sure that it wouldn't be any different today – or rather tonight.

He had Theodore sitting at his other side and Adrian sitting opposite him with Draco beside him and Emma on his other side so that he had those with the most problems in close view.

"Harry, my boy." Albus immediately lunging at the boy, not realizing that he startled him. "Care for a lemon drop?"

Harry smiled at the old wizard after pulling himself together, after nearly giving away a startled yelp, but politely he declined the lemon drop he was offered, knowing that the thing only would upset his stomach and he really didn't want to puke out his innards here in front of all the teachers, he felt out of place enough as it was without such an embarrassing incident. Not to mention that he soon had learned from Snape's ramblings about _'the old coot'_ dosing his sweets with calming potions or with truth potions and he really didn't want to find out what kind of foolish things he would do or say should he accept one of the laced sweets, for once glad that his relatives had taught him better than to accept any sweets offered to him or he would have accepted those _'blasted sweets'_ as Snape called them years ago already when he had come to Hogwarts.

"And here the celebrity arrives."

It was a sneer so much alike his own that he even could feel the boy in question looking up at him startled, but the comment had come from a man clad in dark grey clothes, a young man with a suntanned face, blue eyes and short blond hair, a man that might be considered good-looking by some, but whose angular face was hard and cold.

"If you happen to speak of my son, then I suggest using a different tone, Creighton." He said, calmly, regarding the man with a cold stare of his own dark eyes. "As well as choosing different words."

"Of course, Snape." Creighton said, but he nevertheless knew that he would have to have an eye on that man.

"May I introduce Carl Creighton, the new history of magic teacher?" Albus said and he huffed. He already had heard of the man and seeing that there only were three new teachers here, of which he knew two already, this one had to be Creighton. "I think that no student will fall asleep during this particular subject from now on, at least the students are already doing homework in this subject."

"What is no proof of any interest on the students' side." He drawled, unable to keep silent. He didn't know why, because what he had heard of the man was nothing that was a really _tangible_ thing, nothing like – 'Creighton threatened students' or 'Creighton manhandled students' or 'Creighton killed students' – it just was what his Slytherins told him about the man, that they were scared of him, that they had a bad feeling concerning the man and normally he trusted the gut feeling of his students.

**Flashback**

_"Attention, please." He called upon entering the Slytherin common room, softly, but even though a moment later the room was as silent as it had been never ever before, as silent as if it were empty and he smirked at the knowledge that he had not lost his touch, that Harry had not made a complete emotional fool out of him. _

_A moment later however hell broke loose._

_"Professor!"_

_"Sir!"_

_"Professor Snape!"_

_"Severus!"_

_"Merlin!"_

_"Professor!"_

_And another moment later he had more than just a handful of students surrounding him, some of the younger ones even throwing their arms around his stomach in their enthusiasm, some even nearly crying and looking around he noticed pale faces, faces that clearly had not laughed for a long time on the younger students' side and tired faces that had not had enough rest for some time on the older students' side and sighing he lifted his hands and placed them on the shoulders of those children that dared hugging his stomach. _

_They only were relieved that he still was alive and they only were Slytherins, students of his house. _

_"Mr Warrington, Mr. Montague, a moment please." He said, waving the two over before he gripped the most clingy child, Miles Granary, a small second year now, below his armpits to lift him up, knowing that the boy wouldn't release his stomach anytime soon and then went towards one of the sofas which were free now, seeing that all the children were surrounding him anyway. _

_He didn't even mind that they followed them, surrounding them there then, some of the other second and third years climbing on the sofa and leaning against him on either side while he had Miles on his lap, the boy leaning against his chest, crying and he ran his hand through the light brown hair of the child._

_"A few words on the past three weeks, please, Mr. Warrington." He said, addressing his prefects. _

_"Nothing too bad happened, Professor." The boy said. "The younger children had trouble coping with your absence and I think we older students had all hands full with keeping them in line concerning meals and rest, but we managed. The studies didn't suffer as most of us knew that you were disappointed if we allowed any lack in this area while you were not here. No student was caught doing something stupid but they nearly panicked when Adrian went missing and later Emma. We were informed about them being safe and cared for by Professor Hrothgar, but it hadn't been easy as we weren't allowed informing the others about their clear whereabouts."_

_"I see." He said, seriously. "There are some new Professors this year, any troubles with them so far, Mr. Montague?"_

_"No, sir." This boy answered. "Professor Hrothgar is not so different from you and so we get along with him well. Professor Moody is – in his own way – alright too. Openly he seems to prefer the Gryffindors, always giving the Slytherins detention, but I think that he only plays a role that is expected of him as a teacher of the light, because the detentions he gives the Slytherins are – nothing than going over homework or spell-work, sometimes even just playing chess. It is different with Professor Creighton."_

_"How so?" He asked, his eyes narrowed while trying to classify the man but not remembering having heard his name ever before._

_"I cannot answer your question, Professor." The boy said, frowning. "It is nothing I could say specifically, only my gut feeling. He is strict, he has a student standing in a corner and he doesn't care if it is in front of the class or during detention only, he has the students cleaning his classroom or something like this, but … it's just strange – he is just strange and even though I cannot name a reason, I do not trust him and some of the students are even scared of him. At least I always made sure that none of the younger Slytherins were alone with him for detentions."_

_"That was very well done, Mr. Montague." He said. "I see that you have acted very reasonably in a dire situation and I will make sure that you are rewarded for your efforts. Well done, indeed."_

**End flashback**

"I'm so glad that you are all back." Minerva said, getting him out of his memories, and he could watch her eyes going over the Gryffindors.

That would be the next problem, he realized, Minerva noticing that her fourth year lions clung to him at least as much as to her, if not more even, and he mentally already prepared for a battle he would have to fight at one point or another during the next few days.

"Yes, Ma'am." Harry politely answered and the other Gryffindors nodded at their head of house but none of them really showed too much enthusiasm and he already could see Minerva's face falling.

"You are no fourth years, Miss Black and Mr. Pucey." Albus threw in and he clearly could notice that it was meant to distract Minerva from her worries. "Nor are you, Mr. Canary. How come that I find you in their presence?"

Both children looked up at him, startled, Adrian clearly because he was not used to being addressed by the headmaster, clearly still wanting nothing else than being in his, Snape's presence, and Emma clearly startled at being addressed _at all_ and not knowing how to deal with this kind of human contact as it was no school related question.

"Seeing that none of the present teachers have looked out for the Slytherins and their needs during the absence of their head of house, I have taken those students who had worried enough so that their worries had taken an impact on their health concerning meals and rest, out of their house to integrate them into this group." He answered the headmaster's question, unable of keeping a hint of accusation out of his voice but he did keep himself from adding a scathing comment about his thoughts, knowing that an argument wouldn't do any good to the children now. They were here to have breakfast together with the other teachers so that they got used to the crowds that would await them tomorrow. "You will soon learn that they will have enough troubles with being re-integrated into the all day life of this school, Albus, and I fear that we will have to discuss a few things before they are back to classes on Monday."

"Such as?" Moody asked, frowning at them.

"Such as the children being allowed to have a small snack between classes as they are unable of eating an appropriate amount of food during _one_ meal, they will need several small meals until they are used to food again and such as taking a rest if they so need, even if it is in the midst of a class."

"You don't expect me to allow them sleeping in my class, Snape!" Creighton called out, shocked. "If so, then you easily could get back Binns to lull them to sleep, I won't allow them drooling off and over the desks!"

"Then maybe you should give your subject over to a more understanding teacher for the time being, because those children will _need_ rest and it actually might _be_ that they fall asleep in one lesson or another. They nearly have died, Creighton, you seem to have not noticed this little fact yet!"

"A more understanding teacher!" Moody huffed. "And such a request from you, Snape!"

"Bear in mind, Snape, that I won't allow any student to fall asleep in my lessons, no exceptions." Creighton called out, outraged.

"I will make sure of this, Creighton." He hissed back at the man. "I just cannot promise your class being visited regularly by all the students in this case and _you_ better be silent, Moody, because I do know what you are doing to my students during detention!"

Harry beside him chuckling caused him to growl at the boy but at least Moody chose to not answer his comment – contraire to Albus.

"They are not your students right now, Severus." The blasted man said, causing Harry – and some of the other children in their presence right now – to look up at him, startled. "They are Professor Hrothgar's students at the moment."

Well, he would have chosen a different time to tell them, but well, be it as it may – it was now then.

"Actually, they are Severus' _and_ mine, Albus." Hereweald chose this moment to get a word in. "And seeing that Severus has enough at his hands with these children here, until they are back to health, I still think that this has been the wisest decision."

"Dad?" Harry unsurely asked in his small voice, the small hand gripping the hem of his robes below the table and sighing he reached over to place a reassuring hand on the child's shoulder.

"Professor Hrothgar and I have decided that right now you are my first priority, all of you, until you are well and surely I would not manage having a close eye on you imbeciles and all you could have in your idiot minds while I have the head of house duty added to classes over my head." He growled. "Therefore the headmaster has allowed two heads of houses for the Slytherins for the time being so that they can seek the help of Professor Hrothgar generally and mine if they are uncomfortable with him or – encase of Adrian, Miles and Emma – pulled out of their house and added to our group by me. I do hope that you will not be too disappointed and unhappy about the fact that you will have me breathing down your neck for a while longer, Mr. Snape."

Well, a moment later he had a very emotional Harry Snape clinging to his neck, in front of the entire staff, in front of Moody even, and Creighton, and he growled unhappily.

What had this child thought? That he would abandon them the moment they were out of there? But then – yes, of course the child had thought just this and with a defeated sigh he wrapped his own arms around the child that hang on his neck.

"Will they be alright with this, Professor?" Draco asked, his pale face worried and he nodded over to the boy, reassuringly.

"The Slytherin house has gotten used to Professor Hrothgar very well, Draco, and they trust him." He answered. "It has not been easy to accept my retreat when we talked to them yesterday evening, seeing that I have been their head of house for many years, but as they like Professor Hrothgar, they have accepted the change, knowing that I am still there and not gone completely, knowing that I will be back one day sooner or later."

**Flashback**

_"I would like talking to you about something else." He then said, producing a patronus and sending it away with a message for Hereweald. _

_A moment later the door to the common room opened and his old friend came in, already knowing the subject and the man's own face was a mixture of sadness and seriousness, sadness over the necessity of his presence and seriousness because he knew that the children wanted Severus back._

_"I am sure that all of you can imagine the poor health of those who has been locked away at the present time, mentally as well as physically." He started the talk he knew would be very hard on them. "And I am sure that all of you will understand that they cannot be left alone right now. Therefore Professor Hrothgar and I have decided it best for me to keep an eye on them until the situation is back to normal, meaning they are back to health, all of them, the Gryffindors as well as the Slytherins."_

_"You mean … you're leaving us." The boy in his lap asked, turning halfway to look up at him, startled._

_"No, Miles." He seriously answered. "I am not leaving you. I just give part of the head of house duty over to Professor Hrothgar whom I trust unconditionally. I am still here, Miles, I won't really abandon you, but you will have to understand that I cannot abandon those children either and at the present time I cannot stretch myself thin to be there for you as well as for them."_

_"But why you, Professor?" Hester, a second year girl who had tried to get close to him too, piped up, sounding desperate. "Why not another teacher?"_

_"Because Severus has been with them, child." Hereweald said, taking the child beneath her armpits and lifting her from the sofa, sitting down himself before setting her onto his lap. "He does understand their needs best right now and that is very important."_

_"But we're important too!" The girl said, unconsciously leaning against the other wizard's chest. "We've needs too!"_

_"Of course you are important too, Hester." Hereweald answered, chuckling. "And of course you have needs too, and that is why I am here. Severus has a different duty for the time being and we have to accept this, but the moment he has finished his duty, never mind when this will be, then he will be back with you. In the meantime we all will have to give our best, you as well as I. Do you think you can do this for your two heads of house now?"_

_"None of you will be left alone, I promise you this." He said. "I will visit your common room every now and then and you will be able annoying me then with your idiot questions."_

_Well, if nothing had elicited a smile, this comment did and he gave one of his own rare smiles himself. _

_"I won't be gone." He softly reassured. "And I won't abandon you, I will be just a bit farther away than you are used to, but I will be here."_

**End flashback**

Well, it had been a conversation that had gone easier than he'd had expected and he had been glad for the children's understanding while he at the same time could understand their disappointment and would be there for those who needed him despite Hereweald's presence.

A startled scream got him out of his thoughts and looking up he groaned in frustration and annoyance.

Of course it had to be Sibyll, making a scene, the woman standing there, close to the entrance of the great hall and pointing at them, her eyes behind her ridiculously large glasses fixed on Harry, who looked back with just as wide eyes, startled too and leaning back a bit when the idiot woman came closer, still pointing at the child.

"Mr. Potter …" Sibyll gasped and he sighed. Another death, and of course it had to be his son.

"I know, I'm going to die soon." Said boy sighed himself the moment he had recovered from the shock and for a moment he wasn't sure if he should take the situation lightly and laugh or if he should be worried and interfere. "And here I thought that with becoming Professor Snape's son and friends with Draco and Theodore, I had avoided every danger at Hogwarts and should survive a bit longer."

Well, he couldn't help his lip twitching into a smirk at his son's words now while Albus and Minerva chuckled and the children burst into laugher, causing Sibyll to turn with a sullen "you'll see" on her lips.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Any idea whose essay this has been?" Harry asked, frowning, while sitting in his bed, indian style, his blanket laying over his legs and running his fingers over the letters on the parchment like blankets.

They all had taken the transfigured blankets with them. He had thought that they would be tired of seeing them after those three weeks, had thought that they were tired of _anything_ that had to do with their imprisonment, but they all had kept their transfigured blankets, even after Poppy had offered them other blankets, warmer blankets, larger and softer blankets – they had declined, all of them.

Well, it was warm here, in the hospital wing, overly warm even, and so the children didn't freeze, not even with those thin comforters and after their stubbornness and their refusal of letting go their _'cuddle blankie'_ as _he_ called it, he simply had cast permanent warming charms on them as well as softening charms and refreshing charms.

Frowning he looked over at the child, not really satisfied with the raspy question, the child's throat clearly getting infected again and approaching the boy's bed he sat down at the edge, placing his hand at his boy's forehead.

"You are getting warm again." He said, frowning. How was it, that the fever was gone in the morning and came back every evening? "Considering the amount of red ink however, and concerning the unrecognizable scrawl, I think it is Ronald's essay you have here."

The boy looked over at the red-head, unsurely.

They had made their truce, down in the dungeons, while they had been locked up, but now, that they were free, Harry was unsure about the Weasley boy and he wasn't sure if it was general fear or if he just feared that he might have lost his friend, or the closeness of their previous friendship they had shared for years.

"Wanna have it back?" Harry asked the boy who shook his head while looking at his own essay.

"I think I have yours, Harry." Draco said. "At least I think it's your scrawl."

"And this is yours, Draco." Hermione said. "If I give you yours, then you could give yours to Harry and Harry could give his to Ron."

"Well, this here has barely any red on it." Tracy said. "Guess that's yours then, Hermione." The girl stood, simply giving the blanket to Hermione without a word and Hermione, after a second of hesitation gave her blanket to Draco who smiled at the girl before giving his blanket to Harry and Harry without hesitation handed his blanket over to Ronald.

At the same time Pansy had exchanged blankets with Daphne and Gregory has given his to Vincent and Ronald reached his over to Theodore – barely half an hour after the initial question all the students had … _'their' … 'cuddle blankie'_ … and with a suffering sigh he shook his head.

"Happy now?" He asked in a growl, trying to sound annoyed, but well, if it ever had worked with them, it didn't work anymore _now_ because they all chuckled and he huffed at them. "I suggest you take out the charms notes Professor Flitwick has copied for you and read through them before lunch, so that you have something to do that actually makes sense instead of behaving like small children – because if you think that I will read you a story, then you will be very much mistaken."

Well, it was heavenly quiet for some minutes after that, the imbeciles actually doing as they were told and reading through three weeks worth of charms material – until Harry broke the silence.

"If you're digging a hole from the north pole to the south pole, and then throw a stone into it, how far does it fall?" The boy asked and he frowned.

"What nonsense." Draco huffed. "If you'd actually be able to dig a hole all the way from the north pole to the south pole, then the earth would spin out of her orbit to begin with."

"Wouldn't the lava run out of the hole before that?" Neville asked and he huffed at the two boys who apparently didn't realize that this surely was another one of Harry's stupid questions that didn't need any intelligent answer. "And then the planet would get cold and we had a new ice age."

"There's a muggle movie called ice age." Hermione said. "It's a funny one."

"Dunno." Adrian said, climbing up on Harry's bed and leaning against the small frame, carefully but clearly searching for the other boy's comfort and he narrowed his eyes at him. "How far does it fall?"

He would have thought that there would be a rivalry between Harry and Adrian, and not only over him, Severus, but over Harry's weight and height too, the older of the two clearly being very annoyed about the fact that the second year was taller than was he.

"Just twenty-five yards." Harry answered Adrian's question. "Because _there_ is the big, blue stone eater sitting."

"You're an idiot, Harry." Adrian chuckled, trying to get comfortable.

"I know." Harry said, shifting the younger boy's form until Adrian lay with his head in Harry's lap. "Sleep, Adrian, you look tired." Harry then said and obediently Adrian closed his eyes.

"You look tired too." Severus said, eyeing the boy, clearly not pleased with the situation. "Why don't you lay down too?"

"I have only a few lines to read, then I'll lay down a bit, I promise." The boy said and he nodded, frowning.

He was glad that on one hand Harry was able to tell him what he needed or planned, namely reading a few lines to finish the copy Filius had made of his students' notes, but he was not really happy about the _'I promise'_ at the end of the boy's sentence, it sounded a bit too much like the boy trying to reassure him in order to get out of any punishment if possible. He would have to work on this habit of the brat, fearing he would be punished for minor things while at the same time he wondered – did the boy have a relation of what were minor things even, seeing that with the Dursleys apparently everything that had happened had been a big thing that had warranted a punishment?

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Yawning Harry lay down on the sofa in their room with a blanket – with _his_ blanket – having only a short nap after lunch in his mind before working some more on his charms notes, but it seemed that he had only just closed his eyes and dozed off, when the next thing he knew was his father shaking his shoulder and calling his name and tiredly he opened his eyes, just to see his father crouching in front of the sofa and watching him concerned.

"It is time for dinner, Harry." The man said when he had his attention and he frowned, because he actually must have slept for several hours if it was already time for dinner and shivering he tried to get back down under the blanket.

"'m not hungry." He mumbled, rasped, his throat hurting with the whispered words and a moment later he had to fight for air while he fought with a coughing fit.

For several long moments Harry was shaken by dry and harsh coughs while he, Severus, held the painfully thin frame, the coughs making it clear just how weak the child was and when they finally subsided the child lay weakly in his arms, clearly feeling exhausted despite the nap he'd taken earlier and even if he knew that his face still was calm, he knew that he couldn't hide the worry in his eyes. Yet, he didn't care.

"Call Poppy please, Neville." He said to the child sitting closest and the boy immediately got up while he looked into the pale face with the red cheeks, caused by the fever that had – yet again – taken hold.

**Flashback**

_Lily took a few steps back after dumping the baby into his arms – a Lily-like action, really – and he felt more than just awkward while holding the boy, trying to remain as motionless as possible when the infant blinked up at him in curiosity, green eyes blinking up at him with a trust that only a small baby could show, a creature that had not made any negative experiences in its tiny life yet and he didn't know how to handle the situation. _

_A moment later he was shocked by something only a spawn of Potter could do – or a child of Lily – and still looking into the green eyes, while Potter Junior gave him a wide and toothless smile, squealing softly with delight while trying to cuddle deeper into his robes – he wasn't so sure if he should see the small thing as Potter's spawn or Lily's child. _

_The nerve of this boy! Merlin!_

_Did this blasted brat not know that he didn't like children? Did this blasted little thing not know that he would use him in one or another potion? Cut into small pieces? Limb by limb? The nerve of this boy indeed!_

_Steeling himself he refused to be bothered by the small baby's actions, only shifting the strange thing in his arms and giving away a deep growl – that only had the bloody thing squealing in delight again, green baby-eyes shining happily in a rosy baby-face. _

**End flashback**

The small little thing had soon fallen asleep in his arms, not bothering his discomfort at holding a newborn baby and seeing that Lily had fallen asleep on her own bed too while he had watched the little imp, he'd had no other choice than sitting down with the strange little creature in his arms, waiting for the mother to wake if he didn't wish to leave the baby elsewhere and unprotected.

He had looked so peaceful back then, unbothered by anything that happened around him, unbothered by any emotion he might elicit out of people, out of him, Snape, unbothered by the world itself.

This child here, this same child, just older, it didn't look so peaceful anymore and he knew that he was not unbothered, not by the world around him nor by what he might elicit out of the people around him and he only could worry while he tried to wake the boy to give him a fever reducer and a coughing solution – without any success this time.

Well, during the past few weeks he had learned that the child always was hard to rouse from a deep sleep, no matter how long he had been sleeping and sometimes Severus thought that the boy would sleep for days if he were able to, knowing that most likely this need for sleep was caused by lack of sleep because of either nightmares or because of pain caused by beatings and being hungry, and then even more nightmares keeping the child awake at his relatives' house.

Sighing he decided to leave the child sleeping, spelling the potions into the child's stomach, even if he didn't like doing so, and then he pulled back the blanket to – again – run a cold cloth over the child's calves, shaking his head over the – again – mixed socks the boy was wearing while he wondered how this would end.

They were released by Poppy, free to go, all except Harry – but none of the other children was ready to leave while Harry was still admitted to the hospital wing.

Well, he would see what the next day would bring.

break ... ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ... line

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued<strong>

**Next time in A few days more**

_____Release from Poppy and a few other things_  
><em>___

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too, thank you …

**House cup: **

At the present time it looks like this:

708 - Gryffindor - Head of House: Catlady

701 - Slytherin - Head of House: evil minded

576 - Ravenclaw - Head of House: Arithmancy Master

340 - Hufflepuff - Head of House: still a free post


	7. a place for my head

**Title:**

A few days more

Sequel to twenty-one days

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Fourth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

"A few days more" is the sequel to "Twenty-one days" – read and review this first or you wouldn't understand all that happens in this story.

The fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindors have survived their imprisonment in the potions classroom situated in the dungeons. How will they go on in all-day life after their survival? How will they manage to reintegrate into the castle's routine and their classes? How will they be able to go back to life at all? Watch how those who survived fight for their lives and for their peace, for their place in the community at Hogwarts.

**Disclaimer: **

Did you see Severus alive at the end of _'The deathly hallows'_? no?

Do you think I would have had him died if I had written those books? no?

Then you know that _'Harry Potter'_ does not belong to me … nor does Severus … regrettably … he belongs to J. K. Rowling …

But Hereweald Hrothgar does …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Warning:**

Story contains references to child abuse.

Child-abuse is a really serious thing, it is an evil thing and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help without being helped, and closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist, is no solution …

I only say - remind yourself of your feelings, of your sympathy, and of your understanding … and handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once being abused … with understanding and with help …

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me - I am …

* * *

><p>break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line<p>

**Previously in A few days more**

_This child here, this same child, just older, it didn't look so peaceful anymore and he knew that he was not unbothered, not by the world around him nor by what he might elicit out of the people around him and he only could worry while he tried to wake the boy to give him a fever reducer and a coughing solution – without any success this time._

_Well, during the past few weeks he had learned that the child always was hard to rouse from a deep sleep, no matter how long he had been sleeping and sometimes Severus thought that the boy would sleep for days if he were able to, knowing that most likely this need for sleep was caused by lack of sleep because of either nightmares or because of pain caused by beatings and being hungry, and then even more nightmares keeping the child awake at his relatives' house._

_Sighing he decided to leave the child sleeping, spelling the potions into the child's stomach, even if he didn't like doing so, and then he pulled back the blanket to – again – run a cold cloth over the child's calves, shaking his head over the – again – mixed socks the boy was wearing while he wondered how this would end._

_They were released by Poppy, free to go, all except Harry – but none of the other children was ready to leave while Harry was still admitted to the hospital wing._

_Well, he would see what the next day would bring._

**A few days more**

**Chapter seven **

**Day seven – twenty-ninth of September – Sunday**

**A place for my head**

"You cannot release Mr. Potter with the fever that will rise in the evening again, Severus!" Poppy called out, horrified at his suggestion and he lifted his eyebrow.

"Correct, Poppy, I cannot release Mr. Potter because there is no Mr. Potter present at this school." He smirked.

"Severus!" The matron shook her head. "This isn't funny! Mr. _Snape_ is not well yet and you cannot release him!"

"None of them are well, Poppy." He calmly answered. "But one, you cannot keep them here forever, they will have to re-integrate into the routine of the castle and the longer you wait the more difficult it will be for the children. And second, what do you think will it do to Harry if you keep him longer than the others? I will have an eye on the boy, I will have an eye on all of them actually, and I will have him at my quarters should the fever rise again, but I do give my permission for Harry to leave the infirmary together with the others and that is final."

"Sometimes I wished that in this infirmary only _I_ were in authority." Poppy growled angrily. "I really don't know why Albus had seen the necessity of having a Potions Master at this school instead of a potions teacher only, really!" She ranted, but she gave in and a few moments later they went to leave the infirmary and to go to the great hall for breakfast.

"Well, if you are ready, then." Severus said, extending his hand towards the door to lead them out and to the great hall.

It was Sunday morning and Severus wanted them in the great hall for breakfast now, while many of the students were asleep still and the great hall surely was not filled to the last seat with children and well, since Madam Pomfrey had approved – even Harry was free to get out of the hospital wing and to go anywhere in the castle as long as he stayed inside if no adult was with him. But even thought the boy was allowed to, could leave and roam the castle, he knew that Harry still preferred to be near the others, at least these others he was comfortable with, the others from the potions classroom.

He led them out of the hospital wing, along the corridor and down a staircase, through the entrance hall and he could notice one or another of his children to take a deep breath the moment he led them into the great hall, a thought that had him startled for a moment – _his_ children … the Slytherins were his, but the Gryffindors still were Minerva's, even though he'd held one or another responsibility over them for the past weeks, and even though he would hold one or another responsibility over them for the next few weeks either as Minerva didn't know what they needed right now.

For a moment the children stood there, in the middle of the deafening silent great hall, unsure, looking into the startled faces of the other children for a few seconds before looking at the different house tables, unable to decide, unable to take the first step, unable to voice what their troubles were and the Potions Master narrowed his eyes at them, patiently waiting however, not ready yet to interfere.

It was just when Ronald and Dean slowly turned towards the Gryffindor table, even _their_ heads bent with the weight of the situation, that Draco made his decision – realizing that this was the moment they would depart, their relationship, whatever relationship it was they had formed during the past three, four weeks, it would break now, it would change – and Gryffindor or not, he wouldn't let Harry's head go anywhere with, or without his body again if he could help it and he smiled at remembering their third year, when Harry's head had appeared in Hogsmead suddenly, startling the shit out of him, he had to admit that.

"There are no houses, remember?" He softly asked after having taken a deep breath. "We are friends, aren't we? Why don't we just eat down in the potions classroom? Or out in the gardens?"

"Why don't we just place an added table into the great hall for all those who feel not well with going back to their own house tables yet?" The smooth voice of Severus Snape startled them from behind and Harry smiled, glad that he didn't have to go back yet, knowing that he just wasn't ready yet to sit with the others, to joke with them, to talk with them and to answer their annoying questions of what might have happened down there.

"Thanks, dad." He softly said, nodding and Severus could hear the relief in his son's voice, could see the relief in most of the children's eyes and wordlessly he inclined his head, waved his wand and silently asked the castle for a solution. A moment later the wall beside the Slytherin house table slid back a bit, making a scratching noise that caused their hair to stand straight, making room for another table that grew in the newly created space, seemingly growing from the very floor until there stood a table and two benches, just like the other house tables just smaller, giving room for a dozen people on either side and leading the children over to their new table he realized that the castle had added cushions to the benches, causing him to smirk.

Of course the castle would do such a thing, making sure that their bony behinds wouldn't hurt on the wooden furniture.

"Our own table?" Theodore asked, unsurely still and he nodded.

"Yes, Theodore, that is our own new house table for the time being." He answered, calmly. "You may choose where you wish to sit."

"Look, there are black cushions on them." Neville said, gasping with his eyes large.

"And there's a few blankets too, see?" Harry softly said, tugging on the sleeve of his cloak.

"Then this surely is meant to be your seat, Harry, and yours too, Theodore." He smirked down at the boy who scowled at him for his comment.

"Sir?" Adrian softly asked, looking up at him unsurely too and he already knew the question.

"You are to sit here too, Adrian, as well as Emma." He said, noticing the boy's relieved face and Harry's bright smile. How had those two come so close in such a short time? Harry and Adrian? But then – Harry and Theodore were just as close, and Harry and Draco too while the boy did get alone with all of them and for a moment he wondered – was there any child that would not get along with Harry if he just knew the boy well enough?

How had the Dursleys been able to abuse this child the way they had done? While the boy had done nothing to them? Only always wanting to make things right and to please people? How could their son, Harry's cousin, not get along with the boy? How …

It was chaos for a moment until all of the children had chosen their seats, Adrian wanting to sit beside Harry as well as Theodore and in the end he noticed with a smirk that Gryffindors and Slytherins were well mixed up, Neville sitting beside Draco and opposite Harry with Adrian and Theodore on either side, while Hermione sat on Draco's other side with Ronald beside her and Gregory on Ronald's other side, and Emma opposite.

It didn't surprise him that Emma and Hermione got along just as well, both girls having similar interests, namely learning, both girls being very intelligent and for once he was glad that the Gryffindor girl so far had been friends to Harry and Ronald, getting into one trouble or another, because with her experience of life itself, Hermione would be able teaching Emma how to live instead of learning without living while Emma could show Hermione that she didn't have to share her knowledge with everyone.

If only they could stay together for their remaining time at Hogwarts, because the friendships that had started, the bonds he could see forming between them, they were so very much promising and it was a shame, a waste of human interaction, to separate them.

And yet, Hogwarts had its structure and even he had to bend to it.

And yet – upon the spur of the moment he didn't sit at the head table where all the other teachers sat, but he took his place at the new table, to eat together with the children, not caring how any of the students or teachers would take this.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Good morning, good morning." Albus' voice sounded after a short clinking of a spoon hitting a glass and slowly the voices that had re-started rising after they had entered the great hall diminished bit by bit until there was again silence and he groaned in annoyance. Of course Albus would do such a thing.

"And what a beautiful morning it is!" Albus started with what he knew would be a long – and stupid – speech. "As you all surely have noticed by now, the Slytherin house has been taken over by Professor Hrothgar who has been teaching potions lately. This remedy will remain for the time being with the exception that Professor Snape will teach the sixth and seventh grade, NEWT level, and the fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindors of course. And I see, that they already have settled here with a table of their own – I do not know the reason for that, but I ask all of you to not bother them over their decision. The castle has approved of their decision and has expanded the great hall, and so we have no right to question their actions either. I am just so happy that we have them all back, I already have suggested a feast, but Severus has declined with the reasoning that surely such an occasion would be too much for the fourth years anyway right now. Well, what a shame …"

"Albus …" He said, taking a deep breath to calm his annoyance, even if he had to admit – he was glad that Albus did not fight him over his decision to add another table and then to sit there together with the children instead of sitting at the head table.

"Of course, of course, Severus, my apology." The blasted headmaster smiled at him. _At him!_ And in front of most of the student body no less! "You all must be hungry of course. Well, then enjoy your meal!"

A moment later the children had their bowls with porridge, a plate with toast and scrambled eggs, a glass of warm milk with honey and a glass of orange juice in front of them while he himself vanished the bowl with the porridge the house elves had sent up for him too with a casual wave of his hand, glad that he was able to do magic again, glad that some normalcy was returning back – and not only for him, but for the children too – because a moment later there was a cup of strong and hot coffee standing in front of him.

Smirking he imagined Poppy's annoyed face at him, vanishing the bowl with porridge and taking the plate with toast and scrambled eggs instead, but surely he would not eat porridge in front of nearly the entire student body! Absoluteny not!

Alright, _part _of the student body at least.

As it was Sunday the students were not required to be present for breakfast at a specific time but could have their breakfast between eight and ten o'clock in the morning and so one by one of the students filled into the great hall, halting for a moment in confusion after seeing five tables in the great hall instead of four only, the fifth being a smaller table, holding the students that had been locked down in the potions classroom, but after a moment they went to their own respectable tables, their heads together, whispering, while the others told them what the headmaster had said earlier.

When the Weasley twins came to enter the hall they too halted for a moment, but then they grinned, coming over to their table, standing to Ronald's right and left side.

"Morn', Ronnikins." Frederic said and he nearly snorted at the nickname the older boy had given his brother.

"Glad to see you back here, little bro'." The other twin said and he took a deep breath.

"I do understand that you are happy upon seeing your brother back to a normal daily routine, Misters Weasley, and I do understand your need to converse with him too, seeing that you missed the opportunity of spending time with your brother for far too long a time, but right now this is breakfast for them and meals are something that has become very important. They should be taken in peace and calmly, and without interruption." He said. "So you two please leave your brother to concentrate on his breakfast without disturbance. You will have enough time chatting with him later, we won't be gone in ten minutes. I suggest that you too concentrate onto your own meals instead, you have both lost weight yourself." He then added with a pointed look at both his apprentices and with an unconcerned "alright, 'till later" they both went to their own table, causing him to huff at the twins which would cause his hair going grey early.

Well, most of the entering Slytherins seemed to have no problems with them sitting at a fifth table, Slytherins and Gryffindors alike and him, Severus, sitting in their midst. They entered, looked startled for a moment, but then they inclined their heads, greeting them and sitting down at the table beside them, at their respectable Slytherin table, having their normal conversations. Sometimes one or another of them even turned towards them to include them into their conversations too after most of them had finished their breakfast, he had taught them better than keeping anyone from eating after all, and he could see that the castle had placed their table beside the Slytherin table wisely.

Similar were the reactions of the Hufflepuffs and the Ravenclaws, both houses frowning for a moment before accepting – and then sitting at their own tables, whispering, but their faces being neutral – they just didn't care what table they were sitting at.

Not so the Gryffindors.

Most of them stopped, frowned, scowled and then growled before approaching their own table with dark faces and their voices clearly were the loudest and the angriest in the great hall – telling him that surely he would have to have an eye on them for the next few days, until they had gotten used to the new solution. He didn't know it for sure, but he feared that they might give them a bit of a trouble and he wasn't ready to take any risks with them. These children here, they had survived hell, and they deserved better than getting into trouble with their original house mates.

Hereweald approaching the Slytherin table and Miles in particular, had him looking over at that table and he noticed the boy picking at his food, nearly crying.

He too got off the table with a soft "excuse me, please" and went over to them. Not because he thought that Hereweald would be unable managing the situation, he had seen the man with his Slytherins and he knew that he was capable handling the younger ones with care, taking one of them and sitting them on his lap if necessary, while he was capable handling the upper grades with understanding, taking the time to talk with them if they had one or another troubles or worries.

No, he just knew that Miles was one of his more emotional children, that the boy was more clingy towards him, Snape, than most others – like Adrian, and now Harry – and that he was one of the few who would be unable handling the new situation – not with his health being afflicted and this child too had lost enough weight as it was, he would not watch him losing more yet.

"If you allow me to take Miles into my group, Hereweald." He softly said upon reaching the two of them. "I know that you would be able handling the situation, but I know that it would do no good to Miles. And I have already Adrian, who is from his year, with me too."

"Of course, Severus." The other wizard answered, just as softly. "I would have asked you to anyway. And the same goes for Cameron Warrington from sixth year. That boy barely sleeps a night without nightmares and then wandering up to the astronomy tower – did you know that you can see the lights from the hospital wing if you are up there?"

Yes, he did know that. But he didn't comment on that, only inclined his head wordlessly before he took Miles' upper arm, pulling him up from his chair with a gentle "up you go, Miles" and then leading the boy to the new house table.

"Follow me, please, Mr. Warrington." He said when he passed his sixth year students and then sat down beside Parvati again. He seated Miles at his other side and gestured to Warrington to take a seat wherever he felt comfortable. He didn't comment on either the situation or the two children he had taken over to their table and no one questioned his actions.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Breakfast had been a calm affair, even if he had dreaded this particular meal.

It wasn't that he didn't dread _any__ other_ meal, knowing that Snape would stuff food into him until he felt ill and he hated that, this feeling of being ill and having to fight to not puke his innards all over the place, but he knew why Severus did this. The man had explained to him that his stomach was too small to accept enough food, that his stomach would have to grow and that therefore he had to eat more than he normally would – at least it was something along those lines.

But he had dreaded _this_ particular meal because it had been in the great hall, together with the others, knowing that they would see them, _him_, watch him, the way he ate, the way he moved, the way he looked, knowing that they would think of him as a scarecrow. He wasn't able thinking different of himself than being an ugly scarecrow! So how should the others?

But it had gone better than expected.

He had known that the Hufflepuffs and the Ravenclaws wouldn't make a scene, but he had expected the Slytherins giving away nasty comments and dark looks, but they hadn't, they had accepted their presence beside their table, together with other Slytherins and their head of house, or rather former head of house. They hadn't even commented on _them_, stealing their head of house from them and he had been so sure that such a thing would happen, but it hadn't happened.

Just the more had the behaviour from the Gryffindors simply hurt.

Why could they not accept their needs if even the Slytherins could? It wasn't that the Slytherins had stolen McGonagall from them after all, but the Slytherins had said and done nothing while the Gryffindors had cast dark gazes over at them, whispering in angry voices while pointing at them with snide movements.

While watching the other Gryffindors, Ron, Dean, Hermione and the others – he couldn't help noticing them walking slower than they normally would, even as tired or weak as they surely still were and so he guessed that somehow they didn't really want to go _there_ – like himself. He would prefer being in the great hall still, going back to their room behind the infirmary, going into the library even or going back into the potions classroom if necessary, going elsewhere but their tower, the Gryffindor common room.

They just should have told Severus.

His father had _asked_ them after all, if they really were ready to go back to their common rooms, had told them that they easily could stay in the room behind the infirmary for a few days more, but they had told him – no. They'd said that they'd manage and so Severus had allowed them to go there, even if he had seen that his father hadn't been really happy about this.

His father.

Now, that he was out of the potions classroom, that the entire thing was over and they were free, now, that it was sure they would survive, now he wasn't so sure anymore if Snape really was so glad about having him. Of course the man had said he was, and yes, the man had really cared, had sat with him and he really seemed worried, but – was he really _happy_ about having him? Because he knew – if he wasn't, then too soon would this care revert back to hate, and now, that he was Snape's son, he would be at the mercy of Snape's hate then, unable to flee or sidestep. So the only thing he could do was, to hope.

How had it come to this in the first place? Why had the Potions Master taken him as his son to begin with? What exact reasoning had he had back then, in their potions classroom?

Sighing he gave the password to the common room, waited for the Fat Lady to open up and then stepped inside the red and golden decorated and round space, his gaze falling upon the cuddly red cushions on the sofas and armchairs, onto the red carpet in front of the fireplace and finally upon the other students in there, Gryffindors, lions …

If at least Theo, Draco and all the others were with them, Adrian, but they weren't. They were on their way to their own common room, to the Slytherin common room, to the snakes.

Gryffindors, Slytherins, did it really matter if they were lions or snakes? If they were red or green? In the end they were all human anyway, they were friends, and …

Turning he left the room without a word, causing the others to look at him startled – a moment later the others did the same, Parvati, Lavender and Neville being the first of them, followed by Dean and Seamus, and finally Ron and Hermione turned and left the room, followed him down the stairs.

He hesitated for a moment upon reaching the bottom of the stairs and therefore the entrance hall, not knowing where to go now, not feeling – _'at home'_ anywhere, not sure what to do at all, just standing there and he started feeling helpless, feeling desperate, wondering if it would be like this forever now, but then he could feel something that felt – as if someone had made a suggestion, as if someone – or something – tried to pull him along, gently, softly, whispering words that clearly were in his mind only, because when he looked around it was clear that the others concentrated too, but not onto any real sound but onto something inside them. And suddenly he recognized magic that wasn't his, that was not his magical signature, magic that was not coming from his magical core, magic that was different from anything he ever had felt before.

Smiling he went through the entrance hall of the castle and then entered the great hall, wordlessly meeting with Draco and the others who were about to enter at the same time and together they went towards _'their own house-table'_.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

It had been shortly after the last of them had finished their breakfast that the Weasley twins had come back, talking to their brother. Gregory had moved over a bit to make space for one of the twins and George had sat down with a "thanks, Goyle" while Frederic had kept standing behind the youngest Weasley, leaning his arms onto the boy's shoulder.

For a moment he had prepared himself to scold at the sixth year Gryffindor, but then he had seen that the older boy had not imposed any pressure upon Ronald's shoulders. Luckily for him, he would have skinned him if he had – alive.

The twins had told them that Ginevra Weasley was at home still, with her parents, that she wasn't well enough for returning to the school yet and Ronald had been relieved to hear that. He could understand the boy. It was in this moment that he realized – it had been a hard time for not only some of his Slytherins, but for some of the other students just as much.

"Hey, thanks for another prank you've played." Ronald had said a few minutes later when the twins had gotten up to leave their table.

"Who said it was a prank?" George had asked, looking startled and innocently, causing him to huff at his apprentice.

"Nah, it wasn't a prank." Frederic immediately had shaken his head, smirking at his brother, waving off the – _'accusation'_. "It was a rescuing mission."

Later they had departed, the lions going to their tower and the snakes going back to the dungeons and – he had allowed them this departure, knowing that it had to come one day sooner or later, even though he had seen that it had been a difficult decision for the children, for all of them.

And for him too, as much as he would like to deny this.

He had hoped that he would have a few days more with them, with Harry, Theodore and Draco too, but well, as it seemed – they were ready to go back to their previous life sooner than he had expected and if he shoved his stupid emotions aside then he had to admit that yes, it was best this way anyhow. The longer they were kept from real life, the more difficult it would be for them to go back later.

Taking a deep breath he left his bed chamber to fetch a glass of water, unable to fall asleep in his own rooms, feeling strangely alone.

He had been looking for them, shortly before lunch, and he had been informed that they were not in their common rooms – what had him worried to no end at first until he had cast a quick 'point me' charm. He had found them in the great hall, where they had met earlier in the morning, apparently feeling unwell in their common rooms.

Harry had told him about the magic he had felt, magic that had not been his own and he had scowled, had been worried, but knowing that he wouldn't find a solution right then, he had dismissed the incident – _after_ having Harry promising him to never follow this kind of magic blindly but to let common sense rule. To go back to the great hall, where they had met with the snakes, it hadn't been dangerous, but magic that seemingly acted with a brain of its own was a dangerous thing to begin with and one better did use their own brains instead of following blindly.

He had taken them to the lake after lunch, had them walking halfway around the lake before sitting with them in the grass at the other end of the lake, watching the squid and having a few snacks the house elves had sent over. They had been going back to the castle shortly before dinner and they really had been tired by then.

Well, he'd had them walking through the gardens, the past few days, but walking around the lake, even with a pause here and there to sit on the benches around the lake or onto the grass and enjoying the autumn sun, that was not simply a walk through the gardens and of course they had been tired.

Finally there had been dinner and then the children again had departed, to leave for their respectable dormitories.

Shaking his head over their stubbornness he took a few sips of the cold water before placing the glass atop the kitchen counter. He hesitated for a moment before going back to his bed chamber – but then he made his mind up and waved his hand, changing his clothing into more proper clothes than the night-robe he had been wearing, before he left his private chambers with a resolute gait to go down the dungeons hallways and towards the potions classroom, or what had been his potions classroom before a new classroom had been declared for the students to use for this particular subject.

He didn't know why though he did this.

He normally wasn't a sentimental person, but right now he simply felt the need to go back to the potions classroom, to the place where they had been locked up for twenty-one days.

He hesitated for a moment, when he found the door ajar, easily slipping his wand into his hand because he was sure that he had closed the door after leaving with the children a few nights ago. He even had considered locking the door, but then he had decided against it and simply had closed the door. But it was ajar now.

Narrowing his eyes he slowly shoved the door open and then stepped inside, his wand drawn.

But then he nearly smiled. _Nearly_, mind you! Because he was Severus Snape, and Severus Snape did _not_ _smile, _not even at the sight that greeted him upon entering this particular room!

In front of the softly crackling fire, on the floor, on a thin mattress to be precise, lay Harry. And beside him Theodore and Draco on their own mats, peacefully sleeping.

Shaking his head he sat behind the desk and opened the drawer, took out a few papers. He should have known. Or at least he should have thought about this possibility. The children were used to sleeping together, down here or at least in the infirmary and he could imagine that they didn't want to go and visit Poppy in the middle of the night, therefore preferred this potions classroom to …

Slight movement ahead of him caused him to look up, watching the door slowly and carefully being shoved open once more and Neville Longbottom standing in the door, gazing at him unsurely and shuffling his feet nervously. He had a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, a pillow in his arms and a book in his hand and he knew why the boy was here. Of course.

"Do not linger in the doorway, Neville." He calmly said. "You are not the first down here tonight and I am sure you have better things to do than worrying, so go over to the fire, transfigure your book and go to sleep."

For a moment the boy stood there, gaping at him with his mouth open, but then a small smile crossed the boy's face while he went to the fireplace, laid his book beside Draco's mat and transfigured it into what became the same thin mattress they had been sleeping on for twenty-one days before he lay down with a relieved sigh, covering himself with his own essay-turned-blanket.

"For Merlin's sake!" He growled, waving his wrist and a moment later the mats on the floor were thicker and more comfortable. Honestly, they _could_ do magic down here now and so there was no need to have them sleeping while being uncomfortable on thin mats that lay on the stony ground.

There was a soft "thanks Severus" before the boy turned onto his side, facing Draco's pale and sleeping face.

"You're quite welcome, Neville." He softly said, feeling strangely satisfied that the boy still dared using his given name, now that they were free from their imprisonment. "Good night."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Stretching he yawned before placing the quill atop the stack of parchment, notes his NEWT students had taken in potions while Slughorn had been teaching them, before Hereweald had come, and he really had been very disappointed in that man. The notes they had taken were clearly notes they had taken from the books, on their own, but not because Slughorn had explained anything to them, they even had written down so, had made their own assumptions while trying to understand the text in the books, Slughorn not explaining anything to them.

In other words – he would have to start from the beginning and he only could hope that they at least had understood enough so that they would cover the subjects quickly or they would be unable going through the complete syllabus this year. Tiredly he ran his hand over his face before getting off the chair he had been sitting in for hours now, trying to make a new plan for them to work on.

During those hours more had come down here and now there actually was their entire small group present, including Adrian, Miles and Cameron, only Emma was missing, but knowing the girl she was sleeping deeply and soundly – until five in the morning when she would wake up, starting on one or another book before breakfast, unable to go back to sleep as her brain would be in full working-mode the moment she opened her eyes, needing to work out one or another riddle, thing, task, exercise, challenge – whatever.

Going over to the mat Harry lay at, he knelt down and then placed his palm at the boy's forehead, the pale face peaceful in his sleep, and with a frown he noticed that there was no fever, the skin comfortably warm with sleep but not hot and not dry either and he pulled the blanket up over the boy's shoulders, tucking him in more properly seeing that the boy generally was cold enough to begin with because he had no meat on his bones.

Looking the small form over his eyes fell on two small feet clothed with different socks that stuck out from the blanket and shaking his head he just pulled the comforter over the two feet, covering them while wondering why it was that the boy always – _absolutely always_ – wore two different socks. Even the socks in Harry's trunk, they were all mixed up.

And he had looked, there were some that were single socks, mixed up with other single socks, yes, but there also had been one or another pairs of socks that were just as mixed up like the single ones. He'd even had Harry putting them in pairs and he had transfigured those socks that had been single ones so that they were pairs now – but again, the child wore mixed socks and he was sure that if he now looked into the trunk, he would find all the pairs mixed up again.

It wasn't the worst thing that could happen, really, because he knew that some of the kids liked wearing mixed socks as a new fashion, some even wore different colored shoe laces or even different shoes, but somehow he doubted that the boy mixed them up because of any fashion as he never paid attention to what people were wearing or to what he was wearing.

_'Of course not, he has no proper clothing that could make him care about such a thing as fashion.'_ A small voice in the back of his mind whispered and he knew that it really was time for them to go and visit Diagon Alley so that they could re-place the boy's improper wardrobe.

break ... ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ... line

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued<strong>

**Next time in A few days more**

_____To make a potion? _____

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too, thank you …

**House cup: **

At the present time it looks like this:

708 - Gryffindor - Head of House: Catlady

701 - Slytherin - Head of House: evil minded

576 - Ravenclaw - Head of House: Arithmancy Master

340 - Hufflepuff - Head of House: still a free post


	8. the big, blue stone eater again

**Title:**

A few days more

Sequel to twenty-one days

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Fourth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

"A few days more" is the sequel to "Twenty-one days" – read and review this first or you wouldn't understand all that happens in this story.

The fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindors have survived their imprisonment in the potions classroom situated in the dungeons. How will they go on in all-day life after their survival? How will they manage to reintegrate into the castle's routine and their classes? How will they be able to go back to life at all? Watch how those who survived fight for their lives and for their peace, for their place in the community at Hogwarts.

**Disclaimer: **

Did you see Severus alive at the end of _'The deathly hallows'_? no?

Do you think I would have had him died if I had written those books? no?

Then you know that _'Harry Potter'_ does not belong to me … nor does Severus … regrettably … he belongs to J. K. Rowling …

But Hereweald Hrothgar does …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Warning:**

Story contains references to child abuse.

Child-abuse is a really serious thing, it is an evil thing and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help without being helped, and closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist, is no solution …

I only say - remind yourself of your feelings, of your sympathy, and of your understanding … and handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once being abused … with understanding and with help …

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me - I am …

* * *

><p>break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line<p>

**Previously in A few days more**

_Looking the small form over his eyes fell on two small feet clothed with different socks that stuck out from the blanket and shaking his head he just pulled the comforter over the two feet, covering them while wondering why it was that the boy always – absolutely always – wore two different socks. Even the socks in Harry's trunk, they were all mixed up. _

_And he had looked. There were some that were single socks, mixed up with other single socks, yes, but there also had been one or another pairs of socks that were just as mixed up like the single ones. He'd even had Harry putting them in pairs and he had transfigured those socks that had been single ones so that they were pairs now – but again, the child wore mixed socks and he was sure that if he now looked into the trunk, he would find all the pairs mixed up again._

_It wasn't the worst thing that could happen, really, because he knew that some of the kids liked wearing mixed socks as a new fashion, some even wore different colored shoe laces or even different shoes, but somehow he doubted that the boy mixed them up because of any fashion as he never paid attention to what people were wearing or to what he was wearing._

'_Of course not, he has no proper clothing that could make him care.' A small voice in the back of his mind whispered and he knew that it really was time for them to go and visit Diagon Alley so that they could re-place the boy's improper clothing_.

**A few days more**

**Chapter eight **

**Day eight – thirtieth of September – Monday**

**The big, blue stone eater again**

"Harry?" He asked after watching the child for more than half an hour now, wondering why the boy would be awake so soon.

It was Monday, and so they would be back to their classes – as many classes as they would manage at least – but they _were_ back to classes and so of course the children would be awake earlier than during holidays or weekends.

But it was half past five in the morning and Harry was awake since five, sitting on his mat and staring ahead, the bony and pale face troubled, worried, he even dared to say that his son looked scared.

He knew that Harry surely dreaded classes somehow, they all did, not knowing if they would manage, how they would manage, how their teachers would react – but as it was Monday morning, they would have potions first, what he was glad for, because he would have them during their first lesson at all and he could see how they managed and then decide on any further visits of classes during the day or about another re-scheduling of their lessons.

And it wasn't that he had not re-scheduled their lessons at least once so far. He actually had turned their entire lesson plan upside down so far and he had re-scheduled their classes so that they would have an easy start into the week with classes slowly building until the weekend, had cancelled unnecessary classes to put PE into their schedule as well as study time and free time. Not to forget a gathering four times a week where they could meet and talk about their day and classes and what bothered or worried them – or what had them happy of course.

Minerva had not been too pleased when he had asked the ministry for temporary medical custody over the children, the Gryffindors as well as the Slytherins, so that he could prescribe potions, rest or anything else they needed more easily and without having to go the long way over asking parents, heads of houses, or headmasters.

Of course, as a teacher at a boarding school he already _had_ custody over the children entrusted to him – to his Slytherins, and to some extend. It was his duty to keep them healthy and well educated as well as to work with them on their behaviour and believes, he had the right to punish them as well as to reward them, but anyway it was only custody in part because still the parents had the last say in absolutely everything, still the parents had to be informed about everything and still the parents could go against anything he wished to do with the children.

A potion against a cold? The parents could go against it because they were against medical things generally. A trip he wished to do with them so they had a day to relax and have fun? The parents could forbid this trip because it was not school related. A surgery a child needed? The parents could go against it if they had the right argument, even if that would kill the child.

Of course most parents didn't really care and so he generally had free reign with the children in his house, but there always were _some_ parents who fought against him just because they either had one or another strange belief or because they just needed someone they could fight against.

However, he didn't know the reason and only could guess that Albus might have had his hands in this, but the ministry had given him _full_ temporary custody over all seventeen children even, without the slightest bit of fuss – and for the entire school year except the holidays where he had to release them to their parents if they so wished.

Nor had they made any fuss about him having adopted Harry and the boy was already registered as Harry Snape, instead of Harry Potter, a date for an official ministry adoption – you won't believe it – already being scheduled by the ministry for next week.

However, it wasn't that Minerva had been really angry about the custody he had got over her lions now – no, she rather had looked sad about such a step being necessary in the first place than really – angry or jealous for the lack of any better word, something he had not expected. He rather had thought that he would have to fight the woman – as well as they normally got along – with teeth and nails. And a few well placed hexes.

But none of it had been necessary.

"Harry?" He softly asked a second time when there was no answer, going over to the boy's mat and kneeling in front of the skeleton. "What is it that goes through your mind, child?"

"Huh?" The boy made, looking at him with startled large eyes and he huffed.

"Very eloquent, Harry." He chuckled before he got serious again. "I asked what was going through your mind."

There was no answer except of a heavy sigh from Harry, the boy averting his eyes.

"Harry!" He softly said, trying to get the boy's attention and making it clear that he demanded an answer.

"I just … I just wondered … well, if we were going back to the way it had been the last few years, potions lessons, I mean." Harry then whispered, still not looking at him openly but watching him beneath the hiding spot of his lowered eyelashes, his body visibly tensing up and he sighed, immediately knowing what the child was speaking about.

Of course the child would worry about that.

Harry had been able to enjoy a few – _'wonderful'_ – weeks with his new father, had gained Draco as his friend and – kind of brother, and Theodore and Adrian too, he had been happy despite of being locked away for three weeks, despite their weakness and hunger, despite cramps and fear, the child had been happy because he'd had someone who had cared for him for once in his life and again, not for the first time since he had become this child's father, he wondered what kind of life the child had been forced to live with his relatives if he could be happy under such conditions.

Of course the boy wondered if they now would revert back to – hate, or at least dislike and him, Severus, making his potions lessons a living hell.

"No, Harry, we won't." He then said, waving the boy closer while he himself got to his feet. "Come here, child." He said when the boy too stood, placing his hand on the bony shoulder and leading him to the midst of the classroom where still the tabletop was laying on the floor, being one of the many remaining proving things that there had been a small group of students and a teacher, fighting for their lives.

He waved his hand and the tabletop slowly lifted itself from the floor a bit, allowing him to simply add legs. He closed his eyes, listening to his gut feeling, but a moment later he conjured a few armchairs and a sofa, the armchairs looking very much similar to the chairs they'd had down here in this classroom, only more comfortable, the sofa looking the same but larger. The children had come down here. They had not met in the library or in the infirmary, they had not met in one or another common room, they had not met in the great hall, nor in a hallway or in one of the many unused classrooms – but here, and so he assumed that most likely they simply needed the memory of this classroom for a while longer, to remember, to understand and to work over what had happened here.

And so he thought it was only reasonable if he made the furniture similar looking to the furniture that had been their classroom.

"I do know that my classroom holds a lot of bad memories for you, Harry, and I do not speak of the past weeks – as horrible as they had been – but about the last three years you have been in my classroom twice a week for potions lessons, and somehow can't help feeling that during those three years your presence in my classroom has been much crueller than your presence during the past weeks." He said, knowing that this talk was necessary, knowing that maybe he should have had this talk with the child weeks ago, or at least days ago, knowing that his son might have had worried about this since a few days now, not only this morning. "We have been locked here for twenty-one days after all and you cannot keep things secret for such a long time if you are locked together with others. Even if I am sure that your friend had not meant for me to hear his conversations – and surely not this particular one – I nevertheless did overhear him telling some other of you lions the real reason as to why he could not understand your happiness over being adopted by my person, Harry. I did overhear him saying that during the past years you have been ill before every potions class – or detention, that you have not been able partaking in meals on days you had potions and that you have not been able sleeping on nights if you had potions the next day."

**Flashback**

_Merlin what a mess this was._

_He had brought Harry back to the rest room beyond his office so that the child could have some peace, so that he could think over what he had said and so that he could have a bit of peace from his fellow Gryffindors, so that he could – simply rest a bit, sleep if possible._

_He wasn't angry at Draco for letting slip this little information, that he was the boy's godfather, Harry would have had to know this anyway, and soon, but he knew that it would have been better if he had talked with Harry before such a comment from Draco. But well, what was done was done anyway. _

_He should have blindfolded the blasted boy, really!_

_Because trying to see him, to look at him one way or another, when Draco had given away this comment, it had done no good to the already irritated eyes of the child – not to mention that he hadn't seen him anyway as he so far did see nothing at all, as frustrating as it was._

_"I don't care!" He heard Weasley's angry voice when he came back to the classroom and he prepared himself for another fight with the redhead teen. "Harry's been ill before each and every potions class, hugging the loo bowl in the second floor girl's bathroom which is unused by students, and puking out his breakfast that hadn't been there even as he's been unable getting any food down on days we've had potions to begin with because he knew that Snape would make his potions lessons a living hell – not to mention that he's never been able to sleep on nights before we've had potions, just to get into trouble with Snape if he got caught by him 'roaming the castle' while he in truth only had tried to walk a few steps so that maybe he could sleep after that! And now he's alright with Snape even adopting him!" Weasley said and he abruptly stopped mid-step, nearly gasping at the words._

_Of course he had known that he never had handled Harry fairly, that he'd been horrible to the boy even, that he really had made it hard for the child, letting him know that he was disliked. But never had he thought that this would have had such an impact on the student, so that his health was at risk, and for a moment he felt himself unable to breathe. _

_He didn't know if a few days earlier this knowledge might have had him smirking satisfied, knowing that his behaviour had an impact on 'Potter', but right now he did not feel satisfied, right now he actually felt ill himself. Why had he not seen all of this? The entirety of the situation? _

_It wasn't that he liked every Slytherin just because they were in Slytherin to begin with, there too were one or another student each year which he did dislike and nevertheless did he not handle them the way he had handled Harry. How had it happened, him allowing the situation getting out of hands the way it had so that a student actually suffered under his treatment? So that a student's health suffered under his treatment? _

_And if the child hadn't eaten twice a week, considering that he had not eaten nearly enough to keep a bird alive at home during his holidays, he now could imagine what it not only must have felt for the child but how slow his physical recovery from his holidays had happened too. Not to mention that lack of sleep had only added to his health being so very miserable and slow recovering, if it didn't even have a massive impact on the child's health in the long run._

_Silently he retreated, going back to the room behind his office and sitting beside the sofa where Harry already was sleeping and carefully he extended his hand to run it over a pale face._

**End flashback**

Of course this kind of _'living'_, first being starved and beaten at a daily basis and over ten years by his relatives, and then later during his holidays too just to being harassed by him, Snape, when he came back to school, weak, tired, exhausted, hungry and injured badly, so that his recovery from his holidays with his relatives were – let's face the truth, none existent, of course this kind of _'living'_ had made a massive impact on Harry's health in the long run and he now knew why the boy always looked like a skeleton, even after long into the school year, knew that this never would change. The boy's body cells had gotten used to barely any food, to irregular meals, the boy's stomach had shrunken to a small thing that couldn't even keep up with the stomach of an infant, for Merlin's sake. And he knew it, because he had run a special diagnostic charm on exactly that, the boy's stomach and general system.

"I know that I never will be able undoing the harm I have caused, Harry." He said, placing his fingertips beneath his son's chin when the boy lowered a pale face, startled, humiliated maybe, pulled the boy's head up so that he had to look at him. "And the only thing I can do is to say I am sorry, truly, about the way I have mistreated you, and mistreatment it was, have no doubt about that. The only thing I can do is to make things better, even if I won't be able to make everything alright, but I do promise you that potions classes will be very different from now on. Do you understand?"

He not only did promise this to the boy, but to himself too while he pulled his son close.

Harry no longer would have to dread potions, being on edge and expecting to be humiliated and ridiculed any moment and for things that were not only irrelevant – and only an excuse to begin with – but things that any other student would do just as well but without them being mentioned even. Running his hand through the dark mop of hair while he could feel the boy's face resting against his chest he swore to himself that there would be no more unfair detentions, no more unfair extra work, lines or essays to write and no more unfair grades or sneering down at the boy.

Merlin, he didn't even know how he had been able to abuse the child the way he had done and his chest clenched painfully at alone the thought. He still didn't know how it had come to that, him loving that brat as deep as he did now, but he did and he would do anything to make it alright.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Sitting at their own house table for breakfast he closely watched the children under his care.

They all had been released from Poppy's claws just two days ago, after they had – _enjoyed_ – her hospitality so very much, and now, this very Monday morning they all were to go back to classes – Severus teaching potions and Harry together with the other fourth years that had been locked down in the potions classroom for twenty-one days going back to their own classes.

Well, at least it was potions they would have first thing this morning and after watching them all going through their morning absolutions, one by one of them going to the bathroom in their dungeons residence instead of any other bathroom in the castle, taking longer than they normally would if those twenty-one days had never happened, he for a moment wondered – what would it be like? Would they be able to even concentrate in his class or would they rather be scared that such an accident like four weeks ago could happen once again? He himself didn't feel too well, he had to admit that. They had been through hell because of spells and a potion mixing – and, even though he knew that he wouldn't be able keeping them alive for another twenty-one days, he also knew that what happened once could happen a second time. They were working with spells and potions after all, they were wizards after all.

While at the same time he knew that he couldn't allow his fear to take the upper hand and start ruling over his life. He would have to resign his job if he did that. But those children were just that – children, unable controlling their fears as well as he did, and he knew that they were – anxious a bit at the least.

Harry hectically scooping up a bit of eggs on a slice of toast caused him to frown at the boy.

"What exactly are you doing, Mr. Snape?" He asked, scowling at his son. It wasn't as if he hadn't told all of them how important not only _regular_ meals were but calm meals they held in peace too and now the child already started spreading chaos and hectic on their very first morning of regular classes. He could understand that the child was anxious, that he was nervous and that he was even scared – and most likely not only because of the potions class but because of him, Snape, being back to his normal spiteful behaviour as well, but they had already talked about that and he had promised that he would not mistreat the child again.

But well, he should have known that it would take more than just one talk to undo all that had caused mistrust. He, Snape, would have to make an effort on gaining the child's trust and confidence. Real trust and confidence, not only the knowledge that he would keep him safe, but the knowledge that he would not harm him either, neither with actions nor with words.

"Uhm … well, we don't have much time and I'm always so slow with eating and this way I can eat on my way to the dungeons." His son explained, already getting up with this kind of – breakfast.

"Sit down, Harry." Snape ordered, still scowling at the child. "First – seeing that it is potions that will be your first class this morning, we won't start before not all of you have finished their breakfast. Second – even if it were any other class, you will keep sitting here until you have finished your meals – calmly and without hectic, all of you, together. I will repeat it – it is imperative that you hold your meals slowly and without any stress, that you hold your meals at the table and that you hold your meals together and in peace. And this is final, Harry, and now sit down and start your breakfast – including your nutrient potion and the cup of hot chocolate. And despite classes, I do expect you to take as much time as you need, child, your health is far more important than are classes right now."

Slowly the boy did sit down but not after casting a worried glance over the great hall and the head table, the troubled glance making sure that the boy clearly feared being unable to keep up with the others, with the castle's routine and what the teachers expected of him.

"And that goes not only for Mondays where your first class in the morning is mine but for any day, meal or class." He calmly said while taking a sip of his coffee. "You are to finish breakfast, lunch and dinner, never mind what would normally follow that particular meal. Your teachers are informed about that and they will wait: And that goes for all of you, including you, Miles and Adrian." He then added towards those students he knew were slow eaters as well.

"Somehow I doubt that all of them will accept one or another of us being late." Harry said, remembering the comment from the new history teacher, Creighton. The man had made it unmistakably clear that he would not accept any nonsense like sleeping in class, eating, drinking, being late or any other such a thing – While he had sounded so startling similar to Snape, it had been really creepy.

On the other hand – he now had Severus who loved him, he had a real home now, he had a parent now who would stand up to him. After all those years of dreaming and longing, he now had someone who would be there for him finally, who would love him, care for him, stand up for him, protect him, who …

But would Severus really stand up for him against a teacher? He knew that the man surely would do so against any other person, but against a teacher? Surely one hawk wouldn't pick out another hawk's eye.

Sighing he took another bite from the toast with the scrambled eggs, noticing that it wasn't so bad actually, buttered toast with the scrambled eggs on it, but well, having never before have had this to begin with, scrambled eggs, he was sure that they would taste heavenly in any form. Even later into the school-year, when he was able to partake in breakfast, they normally only had oatmeal and toast for breakfast here at Hogwarts, on Sundays cereals, toast and boiled eggs, but never scrambled eggs and he guessed that the boiled eggs simply were easier to prepare for the house elves for such an amount of students. And the Dursleys, well, they surely had never allowed him to taste any of the scrambled eggs he'd had to cook for them every morning.

Maybe he should have put a cup of salt into their scrambled eggs one day, just to see their faces, he wouldn't get some of them to eat anyway – but on the other hand, he knew the beating he would get for that, not to mention that most likely uncle Vernon would have forced an entire package of salt down his throat if he ever had used too much salt, even if just a bit too much salt.

"Harry?" Severus asked while watching Harry's face going from amused to grim, wondering what the boy might have on his mind, and not for the first time today.

"Sir?" The boy asked and he nearly sighed. Of course they were back to a _'sir', _seeing that it was a day they would have school and Harry's mind was back to a student/teacher relationship replacing the son/father relationship. Surely they would have to work on such things for a few weeks or maybe even months more.

"I just imagined putting a cup of salt into the Dursleys' scrambled eggs for their breakfast." The boy said with a sigh and he immediately noticed the boy saying "the Dursleys" instead of "my relatives" or "my family".

"What surely only would have resulted in a beating, Harry." He growled. "That would not have been worth it, seeing their faces when eating your cooking. I don't even dare say that you could not enjoy those scrambled eggs either then, as surely you have not been allowed eating them anyway."

"No." The boy said, in a way that made clear there was something else while he averted his eyes.

"Harry?" He asked, his eyes sharp on the child.

"Nothing … it's just that …"

"Just what, child?" He asked, his voice soft.

"Well … it's just the first time … well …" The boy stammered, again averting his eyes, placing the toast with the scrambled eggs at his plate, causing him, the Potions Master, to take a deep breath at the child's indication.

"It is the first time that you have scrambled eggs at all." He simply stated while inwardly he felt like blasting something apart, preferably the Dursleys' house. "And you chose that particular occasion to make – fast food out of it. Eat, child, I see that there are a lot of things we have to catch up on."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

The new potions classroom was just as dreary as had been the old one, just as cold and just as stony.

Of course he knew that a potions laboratory had to be cold so that the stored ingredients would not go spoiled, not to mention that a laboratory could get rather warm if there were twenty cauldrons brewing, but he never had understood why the classroom too had to be so cool. It was in the dungeons, yes, and a dungeon was cold, but they were wizards and surely a wizard could cast a warming charm on a room. The Slytherins did so with their common room and dormitories, Draco had told him.

"You have seen what magic can do to a potion, Harry." The Potions Master said, as if he had read his thoughts. "You have to be very careful if you handle potions, and using magic together with them is not always the best idea. That is the reason as to why you have to be a Potions Master if you wish to become a healer or vice versa. However, we won't brew a potion today and so we of course can warm the room up a bit." The man then said to them all, waving his wand and a moment later the classroom became warm and nearly cosy – if you could call a potions classroom in the dungeons cosy in the first place.

"What will we do then, sir?" Neville asked and Severus noticed the boy calling him 'sir' and not by his given name. So – did this mean that he had not lost their respect during those twenty-one days when they had been allowed calling him by his given name at one point or another?

It seemed so, none of them had been disrespectful during the past few days, on the contrary, they had become even more respectful than they had been in previous years.

"Today we will discuss what magic can do to a potion in the first place, maybe this way we will find out what exactly happened and maybe then we can make sure that all of you will be able coming to this classroom without feeling unwell." He then said, sitting onto the edge of the desk he now would share with Hereweald for the time being. "Now, does a potion contain magic? Parvati."

"Sometimes." The girl answered and he gave his nod.

"Exactly." He said. "An example for a potion that does contain magic. Neville."

"A healing potion does." The boy answered and again he gave his nod.

"Very good. Now an example for a potion that does not contain magic. Pansy."

"Any general cleaning solution."

"Exactly. What does magic in a potion do, Draco."

"Normally it increases the potency of the potion."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Well, an hour later he had to admit that, it had been a strange potions lesson, one he surely never before had held in a way like this, but he couldn't deny that the children had been interested like never before. They had been partaking in the discussion, they had asked questions and they had told him their thoughts and theories.

He had watched them and just like the past few days he easily had been able to sort the children into three different groups. One group of them, consisting in Millicent, Pansy, Vincent, Gregory, Ronald, Dean, and Seamus, being well after an hour still, the second group consisting in Daphne, Tracey, Hermione, Lavender, Parvati and Neville, already being tired but able to continue their class, and finally the third group being Draco, Theodore, Blaise and Harry – as well as Adrian and Miles, those children being downright exhausted after the hour.

It had been a hassle at first, taking Adrian, Miles, Emma and Cameron into the class and he had been able to see the unsureness of the different grades, Adrian and Miles being second years that were thrown in a fourth year class, Cameron being a sixth year having to partake in a lower class than he originally was while Emma had not had any troubles, the girl clearly clinging to Hermione and not caring about the grade she had stepped up and he knew that the girl surely had no problems with adapting to the fourth year syllabus.

Cameron had been startled at first, but he soon had started to relax into his new position as the oldest in the class and he was able to use any information he got out of the – for him repeated – lesson differently than the younger students while at the same time he started seeing his sixth year potions book with different eyes. He only could hope that it would be the same in any other class as well.

Most troubles had Adrian and Miles felt in the beginning, the second year students clearly not understanding everything but he soon had seen that the fourth years were ready to share knowledge, Harry waving Adrian over to sit beside him and explaining to him the difference between a healing potion and a curative solution, one being used for injuries and one being used for illnesses caused by infects, and for a moment he had thought that – yes, of course this child would know the difference – while Neville had been waving Miles over to explain what magic could do in a healing potion to begin with – it was perfect teamwork.

"Pack away your books and parchment, please." He said. "Your homework will be an essay on what we have just discussed. Two feet will do. For the remainder of the lesson, please sit together and just eat and rest, your next class is transfiguration and I suggest you rest before that."

"Wouldn't we have history now?" Harry asked, perplexed, while he took the yoghurt they had packed earlier from his book bag.

Of course he could have called the house elves for a snack instead of having the children carry food with them, but he knew that surely not every teacher was ready to call a house elf to send up apples, bananas or yoghurt, and so he had ordered them to pack any fruits, yoghurt or small sandwiches – or anything else that could be eaten easily during class with them, never mind which class it was they visited so that they easily could eat something in between classes. Not to mention that he wanted them getting used to packing a snack for between lessons.

He also had them taking small bottles with them, looking as if they only contained half a litre while in truth it indeed _was_ a litre of water in which he had added a nutrient potion or a strengthening draught in the morning so that they had something to drink during classes.

"You would, but I felt more comfortably with having you in Minerva's class than in Creighton's so soon after and seeing that I have made an entirely new schedule for you anyway, I have changed a few things." He then explained. He didn't tell them that he did not trust Creighton, but he could see that the children seemed to know his reasoning anyway. "You will have a very difficult day on Friday however, where you will have double defence followed by double history and after lunch double potions. I have scheduled your second double potions on that day so that you have at least one easier class after two strenuous classes and I had to schedule you one afternoon lesson anyway as we have too many main classes which I am unable to drop completely. Eat Harry." He then added when the boy sat there with his yoghurt in front of him but didn't eat.

"What are the subjects you have dropped, sir?" Theodore asked, nibbling on a banana.

"Divination, astronomy, care of magical creatures and muggle studies." He calmly answered.

"Who has taken muggle studies?" Draco asked, frowning.

"I" Hermione answered, her voice for once sounding unsure at gaining added knowledge and he knew why.

"Why would you do such a thing, Hermione?" Draco asked and the girl breathed a sigh of relief, most likely having feared that Draco would call her a mudblood because of her choice of subjects. "You are living with muggles, you are knowing everything about them."

"Yes." The girl answered. "But it is interesting to see it from a wizard's point of view, not to mention that – as a muggle born or muggle raised witch or wizard – you can learn things about magical families and lifestyles which you would not learn anywhere else as people expect us students to know them the moment we enter Hogwarts."

"Makes sense." Draco answered, still frowning and he could see the wheels in the boy's head turning. He wouldn't wonder if the boy would visit such a class one day, even if just out of curiosity.

"What are the subjects you have added instead, dad?" Harry asked and he smirked at the boy, happy about the fact that his son called him dad while they did not hold classes.

"Well, added to your regular schedule I have doubled your potions classes of course as well as transfiguration, charms and defence, then I have added two double lessons of linguistic, a writing class twice a week as well as literature, wizarding etiquette and of course wizarding technology twice a week. Not to forget science of course, seeing that as a Potions Master I am a scientist and …"

"Dad!" Harry gasped after having had a horrified look on his face first and he couldn't help chuckling for a moment.

"You do not seem to believe me, Mr. Snape, are you calling me a liar?"

"What? No! But … but …"

"Calm down, silly child." He said when he realized that maybe he had startled the boy with his last comment. "Of course I know that you never would call me a liar. It has been a joke only. I have added double PE each evening, a gathering four times a week and nothing else."

"PE? In other words, walking through the gardens?" Gregory asked hopefully.

"Not exactly, Gregory." He smirked at the boy. "You will see tonight. You will see this afternoon after lunch already. Just remember that I expect all of you to meet at our table in the great hall for lunch, no exceptions."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Merlin, what was she to do with them!

She had absolutely no clue how far she could push them so that their health would not go downhill while at the same time she didn't know how much she _should_ push them so that they didn't think that she thought them being weak! How in Merlin's name did Severus manage such things? And they _did_ look so very weak!

Added to this was Mr. Potter – Snape actually now – not allowed to use magic yet and neither was Mr. Nott. The others were allowed, but they had to be careful, according to Poppy, nothing strenuous – what left her only one logical decision right now, namely to not have a practical lesson, but to have a theoretical lesson.

And then there was Mr. Pucey and Mr. Granary from second year in this group, Mr. Warrington from sixth year and Miss Black from third year and honestly – they did not belong into this group. While Mr Warrington was far ahead the others and therefore only would be bored in this class the three other children would struggle on keeping up with the others.

Alright, surely not Miss Black. Miss Black surely was intelligent enough to be in class with Mr. Warrington even, but Mr. Pucey and Mr. Granary would not manage and somehow she didn't understand what Severus had thought in getting these children together with the fourth years. She of course understood that they were as ill as were the others, one only had to look at them to see that they were as thin and as tired looking as were the fourth years, but that man couldn't simply put children with a different grade level together into one class when it came to studying. He easily could have had them in their respective classes and they would be able meeting at their table anyway – or in that classroom of theirs.

She had been a bit startled when Severus had informed her about them not being in their dormitories but back in that classroom last night, she hadn't even noticed that her fourth year lions had left their dormitories one by one, but apparently they _had_ and while she had not thought that they would go down to that place in the dungeons where they nearly had died – apparently they had done _that_ too. She didn't really understand the world she was living in anymore.

"I don't understand this!" She heard Mr. Pucey complaining softly and with a sigh she went over to the boy, still not understanding why Severus had placed them in a fourth year class. She had known that the second year wouldn't understand the fourth year textbook.

"Come here, Adrian." Mr. Potter, Mr. _Snape_, said, waving the Slytherin over and she frowned.

It wasn't the students' place to teach the younger children!

"If you have troubles with the subject then please come to my desk, Mr. Pucey, and bring Mr. Granary with you as he surely does not understand either." She said, sighing. Really, what had Severus thought!

"I'll do this, Professor." Mr. Potter said and she – oh, well, Mr. _Snape!_ This really would take her some time until she finally was used to this!

"It is not your place, Mr. Snape, to teach the younger students and Mr. Granary surely doesn't understand this subject either." She did have the second year students in transfiguration too after all, seeing that she was the only transfiguration professor here at Hogwarts, and therefore she knew exactly where those two stood at the present time, concerning their education.

"I will overtake Miles." Mr. Longbottom said, already getting up and going over to the younger boy and she gaped at this particular lion of hers.

First Mr. Potter and now Mr. Longbottom? Did these two think that she was incapable handling younger Slytherins? Ridiculous!

"Nonsense!" She said. "I expect you to work on your own notes instead of caring for other children's education. You are not well yet yourself and this isn't even your place."

She wasn't sure but she meant to hear a softly whispered "don' wanna, Harry" coming from Pucey and a moment later her student stood, tiredly and clearly exhausted from first double potions and then double transfiguration, to face her.

"Please let Neville and me handle the two, Professor McGonagall." The boy said, watching her with his green eyes tiredly and with a sigh she melted. "We have done so for the past few days and while going over the stuff a second time we might learn a different point of view in explaining it to them. We are used to looking after each other, Professor, please do not take this away from us."

"Of course, Mr. Potter." She sighed. "I am just worried over you, that is all. We have been worried for so long and we all thought you were dead. I just don't want you to take too much on your shoulders."

"I understand, but this is necessary." The boy answered and she was stunned by the teen's mature behaviour. "We are one group, Professor, and we look out for each other. You cannot separate us, you would do more harm than good because we need each other."

Of course they would need each other, she suddenly realized, they'd had no other chance than learning to depend on each other, to look out for each other and to help each other or maybe they really wouldn't have survived. How stupid she was!

Maybe she was just too old for this, or she didn't understand because she had not been in their situation. Severus had explained it to her after all and she surely should just listen to that man's words, Severus had been there with them after all and so of course he would know best. And if he said that they could handle helping two younger students he had taken into their group, then he surely had a reason to believe so.

**Flashback**

_"I wish to have an eye on Ginevra Weasley the moment that girl is back to school." He said and she frowned at the Potions Master._

_"Miss Weasley? Why Severus?" She asked, not understanding._

_"Because her name starts with a W and has an s in the middle part." Severus growled at her and she nearly chuckled, happy about having the man growling at her again. Severus had been strangely calm and – tolerable – during the past few days, as if he had lost his temper. "Honestly, Minerva, what do you think is the reason as to why I would like to have a look at her. She has been ill with worry enough so that Poppy has sent her home to her parents and knowing Poppy that means the girl has been really ill. In other words, if she is as – 'weak' – as are some of my students, then I won't hesitate but take her into this group just as well."_

_"Another student that is too young or too old." She said, pouting. "Pucey and Granary won't understand half of what we teach the fourth years while Warrington will be bored to death."_

_"Warrington not only is recently learning to see lessons from a different point of view in going through them a second time while being older, but he also has added material to that what we are teaching the fourth year so that he will be able to do his NEWTs one way or another and concerning my second years, they will understand if they are given time and patience. They get added lessons from Hereweald and me in the evening to go over the second and third year syllabus of what they have missed, concerning the subjects we are working on presently, so that they will catch up with the others soon."_

**End flashback**

She still didn't really understand, but she tried to and she tried to make the best out of the situation without upsetting the children or weaken them more than their lesson would.

Maybe she should have them eating something? Severus had told them, the teachers, that the children should eat enough, and snacks between, that means, during lessons or between classes. But it was half an hour until lunch and surely if they ate now, they wouldn't be able to eat enough during lunch?

Merlin, what a mess indeed!

"Anyone knowing the reason as to why more and more workers in the mines are disappearing lately?" Mr. Potter's voice got her out of her thoughts and she looked over at the boy who had his hand on Mr. Pucey's shoulder, who was leaning with his lower arms on the table, his head placed on his arms. The younger boy only shook his head tiredly and she could see the exhaustion radiating off the child – as from any other of the children and suddenly she did know why Severus had put him into this particular class. The second year simply wouldn't have managed partaking in one of his regular classes while – as none of _them_ did either, they too, at least some of them, were halfway laying over their tables, tiredly, clearly exhausted and unable to finish the class.

"Dunno." Mr. Longbottom murmured, followed by a "why?" from Mr. Nott and a "knowing Harry it's something stupid" coming from Mr. Malfoy, causing her to frown.

Why would Mr. Potter, – Mr. Snape – ask something stupid?

"Well, the big, blue stone eater has changed his eating habits." Mr. Potter finally answered and she realized that it indeed had not been a serious question but some silly thought, even if she didn't understand the meaning behind it.

break ... ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ... line

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued<strong>

**Next time in A few days more**

______The same day, but the second part of it and Severus having one or another surprise for 'his' children … :D … ______

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too, thank you …

**House cup: **

At the present time it looks like this:

708 - Gryffindor - Head of House: Catlady

701 - Slytherin - Head of House: evil minded

576 - Ravenclaw - Head of House: Arithmancy Master

340 - Hufflepuff - Head of House: still a free post


	9. a place for my students

**Title:**

A few days more

Sequel to twenty-one days

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Fourth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

"A few days more" is the sequel to "Twenty-one days" – read and review this first or you wouldn't understand all that happens in this story.

The fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindors have survived their imprisonment in the potions classroom situated in the dungeons. How will they go on in all-day life after their survival? How will they manage to reintegrate into the castle's routine and their classes? How will they be able to go back to life at all? Watch how those who survived fight for their lives and for their peace, for their place in the community at Hogwarts.

**Disclaimer: **

Did you see Severus alive at the end of _'The deathly hallows'_? no?

Do you think I would have had him died if I had written those books? no?

Then you know that _'Harry Potter'_ does not belong to me … nor does Severus … regrettably … he belongs to J. K. Rowling …

But Hereweald Hrothgar does …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Warning:**

Story contains references to child abuse.

Child-abuse is a really serious thing, it is an evil thing and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help without being helped, and closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist, is no solution …

I only say - remind yourself of your feelings, of your sympathy, and of your understanding … and handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once being abused … with understanding and with help …

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me - I am …

* * *

><p>break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line<p>

**Previously in A few days more**

_"Anyone knowing the reason as to why more and more workers in the mines are disappearing lately?" Mr. Potter's voice got her out of her thoughts and she looked over at the boy who had his hand on Mr. Pucey's shoulder, who was leaning with his lower arms on the table, his head placed on his arms. The younger boy only shook his head tiredly and she could see the exhaustion radiating off the child – as from any other of the children and suddenly she did know why Severus had put him into this particular class. The second year simply wouldn't have managed partaking in one of his regular classes while – as none of them did either, they too, at least some of them, were halfway laying over their tables, tiredly, clearly exhausted and unable to finish the class._

_"Dunno." Mr. Longbottom murmured, followed by a "why?" from Mr. Nott and a "knowing Harry it's something stupid" coming from Mr. Malfoy, causing her to frown._

_Why would Mr. Potter, – Mr. Snape – ask something stupid?_

_"Well, the big, blue stone eater has changed his eating habits." Mr. Potter finally answered and she realized that it indeed had not been a serious question but some silly thought, even if she didn't understand the meaning behind it._

**A few days more**

**Chapter nine **

**Day eight – thirtieth of September – Monday – noon until night**

**A place for my students**

Lunch had been a very quiet affair – because the children had been too tired for anything except for eating their vegetables, mashed potatoes and grilled chicken strips, what had used up enough concentration from some of them in the first place. He had asked them some questions about their transfiguration class, if everything had been alright or if one of them did have trouble with anything, but except of a few monosyllabic answers he had gotten no answers at all out of them and for a moment he even had been worried that maybe something indeed _might_ have happened what they tried to hide – but then he had realized that they simply were too tired to answer him in complete sentences right now.

So he had allowed them some peace first, before anything else.

He had provided them with the stomach soothing potion before lunch, like always, despite their meals being light meals, but he had told them to eat slowly anyway, this too like always, and now he was glad that they all had finished their plates. All, except of Harry, but that was normal he too soon had realized and he had absolutely no idea what he could do against that. The boy simply had a too small stomach and he knew that eating a full meal – even as small as this meal was at the present time – was simply a task not manageable for the boy.

"I suggest it is time for a nap." He calmly said, knowing what kind of reaction he would elicit from the children with his comment. Well, he just would provide the boy with another glass of that blasted muggle yoghurt drink his son seemed to love so much.

"A nap …" Gasped Harry, despite the boy having had trouble keeping his eyes open just moments before, his comment ending in a cough of horror.

They had stumbled over this drink two days ago, on Saturday, when the parents had visited their children. Hermione's parents had brought a few bottles of that drink, claiming that the girl loved it, but he nearly had been shaking his head the moment he had seen the girl's face, wondering if her parents even knew their daughter because that face had spoken about anything but like of that drink.

"Surely not, uncle Severus!" Draco called out, just as horrified as Harry was.

Well, if the girl had learned anything during the past three weeks, then it was to keep her mouth shut for once, because she had not corrected her parents. She just had given the bottles to the others later after their parents had left, and even if Harry hadn't said anything, the way he had tasted the yoghurt drink first and his face after the first sip – that face of absolutely being in heaven, he was sure that it was the same as with the scrambled eggs – the child had never had such before.

"Professor!" Was Ronald's part, accompanied by a "sir" from Miles, a "please not" from Adrian, an "I'm no baby" from Dean and a "not for me" from Cameron and he huffed at the children who suddenly seemed fresh and awake again at alone the _thought_ of a nap.

"You will at least get into a horizontal position and rest, and this is final." He said, getting up.

The children had finished their meal and so he could lead them down into the dungeons, a thought that had him nearly smirking. He was anxious a bit though, he had to admit that, didn't know if they were amenable with the solution he had come up with, but well, if they weren't, then he only could hope that they would be honest enough to tell him.

Following him out of the great hall were twenty-one children, with a suffering sigh, a heavy groan or a dark murmur, but they _were_ following him without further ado and he even caught a comment that made him smirking with amusement, Harry whispering to Adrian a "you know, if you agree to a nap, then you'll appear being a baby, just lay down when dad tells you to and then accidentally fall asleep" and yes, he did know this particular tactic from not only Harry already, but from some others too, like Theodore and Draco, just for example.

There had been a boy in his house, a few years ago. Adam Kingsley. And Adam too had always had told him that – no, surely he was too old for a nap and he surely would not take a nap like a baby. He had told him that he would lay at the sofa for a few minutes if he, Snape, so wished, but he would not sleep! A few minutes later Adam had been asleep, day, for day, for day, for seven years, from his first year, up to his seventh year – and the boy absolutely never had fought sleep.

The same it was with nightly rituals.

Harry surely never would admit that he slept easier – and more peaceful – if he, Severus talked to them until they fell asleep, if there was a conversation going on until they all were sleepy. In the boy's eyes it would be the same as – "telling a story" and surely he was too old for such a thing, like he was too old for being scared of sleep in the first place.

"Dad?" Said boy's soft voice got him out of his thoughts and he looked down at the child, green eyes looking up at him unsurely, green eyes that only recently had gained back some life, some of the previously owned interest and energy and he placed a calming hand at the child's shoulder.

"You will see." He said, already knowing the boy's question as he did not lead them to any known area of the dungeons but down another flight of steps that led deeper into the dungeons, aware of the other children looking around curiously too.

He led them along the corridor and then through the door to their left.

"The wards of these quarters are created around your magical signatures." He explained while opening the large wooden door. "That means that none of you will need a password but no one except of you can enter. You may of course bring friends, but you will have to bring them with you or they won't be accepted in while they are only accepted in for this one time then, not permanently. Welcome to your new common room." He then added the moment all of them stood in the large room.

It was simply – a very large living room. There were three coffee tables scattered around the room, equipped with a sofa and armchairs each, with thick and soft carpets around the seating arrangements. Bookshelves lined two walls, one large sideboard another one and in one corner even stood his piano.

A fire was burning in the grate and candles along the walls were spending light too as well as windows that were showing the Quidditch pitch and the lake.

The room was kept in brown colours, darker brown for the wooden floors and the furniture and a more cream coloured light brown for the carpets and the curtains while the walls were held in a very light creamy colour. When he had been here this morning, he had wondered if he should ask the castle to add a red corner and a green corner, so that the children might feel more at home, but then he had dismissed the thought, knowing that most likely they wouldn't even use those corners then. They were no more Gryffindors or Slytherins, that much he already knew – whatever they were, they had formed a new small house.

There was no sound from the children, they only stood there for a moment, their mouths open, gaping, looking through the room, but then one by one walked over to one corner or another, Harry walking over to the piano and gently hitting a few of the keys before pulling back his hand as if being burnt, looking over at him, clearly scared, but he chose to ignore it for now while walking over to the one armchair the castle had taken from his quarters to add it to the furniture here, near the fire, sitting down while he watched the children.

He just decided this moment that he would teach Harry how to play the piano, the boy having hit the keys experimentally, unsurely, but radiating something he didn't know how to name.

Draco was approaching one of the bookshelves, skimming through the titles while Ronald was walking along the sideboard, running his hand over the smooth wood.

"What's in there?" The boy then asked, his voice soft, unsure.

"Take a look, Ronald." He simply answered.

The boy did, slowly, as if he still were not sure that he was not in Slytherin territory but in a territory that was for all of them.

"Games." The boy said upon finding games in the sideboard he was standing at.

"Here are tumblers." Dean, who had followed Ronald's example, said.

"What's behind these doors?" Draco asked, excitement on his pale face.

"Take a look, Draco." He again said, getting up from the armchair and walking over to the boy who approached the door closest to the fireplace.

Harry too came over, as well as Miles and Adrian and the others had stopped and looked too.

Draco stood there for a moment, but then he extended his hand and opened the door, taking a step inside the kitchen, a "whoa" on his lips. Well, for once he chose to not comment on the boy's eloquent words.

The kitchen was large and held a lot of cupboards, sideboards, a large oven and even a fireplace. There was a large fridge and a just as large freezer, but they didn't work with power, but with magic of course, and they were charmed to always hold what they needed _– _or not needed but liked.

He nodded his head when Draco, who had approached one of the sideboards with a bowl of fruits on it, cast a questioning look at him and the boy hesitantly took a handful of grapes from the bowl. A few of the others followed, Harry casting a questioning look at him too before he took a tangerine, as if he had to ask if he was allowed taking one too and he again gave away a nod. He was glad that the child had asked at all, because normally he never asked, only taking what was given to him.

A moment later the bowl had filled itself and he was satisfied with the situation.

"During the week we of course will eat in the great hall because with classes we won't have too much time for cooking, but on the weekends, meaning Saturday and Sunday, we will prepare lunch and dinner here ourselves, together." He said. "With this I hope to have some of you getting a different view of food generally. Not to mention that you can come here to get a snack if you feel hungry. You will always find fruits, yoghurt or vegetables in here to _– _ _'nibble'_ at." He then added, pointedly looking at Harry who always _– nibbled_ at his food.

"I have found the bathroom, look at this." Neville called from outside and the children turned, walking over to the boy who stood in the open doorway of a room to the left of the kitchen.

"One of them." He chuckled. "There are two actually."

"The other is as large as is this one?" Pansy asked after having had a look inside the bathroom.

It was a simple bathroom with a shower, a tub, a sink, a toilet and a few shelves for towels, washcloths, shampoo, bubble bath, oil and other things needed, kept in different shades of brown like nearly everything down here, mixed with a few hints of dark blue and black.

"The other one is down the hall and yes, just as large as is this one." He answered. "It is exactly the same."

"This here looks like a study." Gregory's voice came from the room opposite the entrance door and he smirked.

"You better remember this particular door, Mr. Goyle." He said. "As it is my private study down here and I fear that one or another of you will have to visit me in there for one or another serious talk."

"Merlin, another office we have to be aware of." He heard Harry groaning and turning he could see the boy's pale face, remembering their conversation just this morning, knowing the child's fears.

"I do hope you remember our conversation from this morning, Harry." He softly said, piercing the boy with serious dark eyes. "There will be no need to fear this study, and as it is in our private quarters here – yes, in _ours_, as I will live with you down here if you all are amenable with this – I won't even keep the door closed as I trust that you have enough manners to stay out if I am not in there. The door next to this one is my bedroom and here too, I simply trust that you won't wander in without my permission and so I won't lock it."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

They soon had found the second bathroom on the other side of the fireplace near the entrance door, this one kept in different shades of brown and a few hints of pink and black, a small library with a long table in the middle of the room for them to study or to do their homework, and a small rest room like the one they'd had near the potions classroom, with a small table, a few armchairs and a large sofa that easily could be used as a bed even.

"Dad?" Harry asked, standing in a wide corridor opposite the fireplace, gazing into the hallway that was lined with doors and pictures, with sideboards along the walls and with an armchair standing here and there.

"You need to sleep somewhere." He said, placing his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Your relatives might have kept you in a cupboard, Harry, but surely this is no appropriate place for any child to live in. You need a room. The school policy does allow only prefects to have their own rooms, but the castle has allowed to share a room between two students each, seeing that Hogwarts has added eleven rooms along this corridor here."

"But then there's one student with a single room anyway." The boy whispered, his eyes large and clearly not understanding why anyone would bother with giving him a room in the first place, even if he had to share this room with another child.

"And seeing that this here has become an independent house of its own, we do need a prefect." He said, causing the boy to blink in confusion for a moment. "Cameron, I normally would suggest you, as you are the oldest of the group and you already have experiences as a prefect." He then started to explain. "But as much as you have suffered from our imprisonment and my absence, I cannot do so or I would not meet the needs of the seventeen children that have been imprisoned for three weeks, I do hope that you understand my decision."

"Of course, sir." The boy answered, looking around and clearly wondering whom he would have to share a room with.

"My first choice has been you, Harry." He said, looking down at the child and he frowned when for a moment he could see the panic rising in his son's green eyes, the pale face losing all remaining colour, the boy's breathing becoming short gasps and the skeletal frame starting to shake.

"I however thought that most likely you would not wish being separated from Adrian and I fear that Adrian would not be ready sleeping in a room with another child than you, Harry." He then said, increasing the pressure his hand had on the bony shoulder. A moment later he had a shaking mass clinging to him, crying with relief and while he enfolded the boy into a tight embrace, pressing the child's head against his stomach with one hand, he wondered how it was that this particular thought had startled Harry as much as it actually had, because down in the potions classroom, while they had been imprisoned, the boy had overtaken the role as a prefect, together with Theodore.

"The same goes for Neville and Miles, it surely would not do any good to separate you, and neither Hermione and Emma." He then said, while running his other hand over the bony back of the skeleton he had clinging to him like a leech. "For another moment I have thought that Theodore would be the right choice as he had overtaken this particular duty down in our classroom too, but watching him during the past few days has told me that – no, I won't burden this duty on your shoulders as being a prefect in front of the entire school might be not as easy as is being a prefect for only our group. The prefect I now chose will have to stand up to his or her group in front of the entire school, in front of teachers and in front of students, the prefect will have to show loyally as well as understanding but authority too. And many would not understand, neither our situation nor our place. You will have enough on your hands fighting with your own health, Theodore, and that is more important, you are one of the candidates I worry for most after all. However, I do choose Ronald." He finally said, eliciting startled and shocked gazes from the children surrounding him, Ronald included. But well, he had known that this reaction would come. "I do trust that you will grow with your duty and your responsibility, Ronald, that you will grow into your group and into your new position and this is final. Visit me this evening in my study so that we can discuss what will be included into your duty."

A moment later he held the prefect badge with the golden P in his hand and waving the boy over he attached the badge at the boy's robe.

**Flashback**

_Leaning back and folding one leg over the other he took a deep breath. _

_He had known that this wouldn't be easy, but he had expected more trouble coming from Minerva – as it seemed however, it was Albus who caused more trouble while Minerva was sitting there, strangely silent._

_"I don't understand, Severus." The older wizard said, shaking his head. _

_"I know that you don't, Albus, how could you even." He said, and he really knew that the headmaster simply couldn't understand. Not such a situation, because the headmaster had not been there. "But I ask you to trust my common sense. I do have a reason for this."_

_"I fear Severus is right, Albus." Minerva softly said and he nearly made a fool out of himself by blinking at her in shock. "I have talked with some of the children, with some of the Gryffindors, but I'm not sure if they are really Gryffindors anymore. I won't say that they have become Slytherins, they have become something between. They have formed their own house Albus, and if the castle is amenable with this, then I think we should accept this too."_

_"But creating a new home for them?" Albus asked, clearly still not understanding. "Don't you think that this is a bit too far-fetched?"_

_"What would you do instead, Albus?" He asked. "They won't sleep in their dormitories, neither the Gryffindors nor the Slytherins, because they don't feel as Gryffindors or Slytherins anymore, because they need to be together. Would you keep them in this classroom for the remainder of the school year? Maybe even for the remainder of their school time? Would you have them sleeping on thin mats in front of the fire with the reminder in their minds of what had happened, and of what had nearly happened there? I need a place for my students, Albus, where they can recover and where they can forget about the horrors they have been through, I need a place for my students where they can live. Any house has is own common room and its own dormitories, Hogwarts has created a new house, so we do need a common room and dormitories too, and I won't discuss about this, this simply is needed."_

_"You are right, Severus." Albus said, with a sigh, the old face pale. "Of course I wouldn't, we just have never had such a situation. Merlin, that would be a fifth house even. A new table in the great hall, added dormitories for them, that is as if the castle had already created a new house."_

_"The castle already has done so, seeing that I am holding a prefect badge in my study, a prefect badge that suddenly appeared at my desk." He huffed at the headmaster. Really, as much as he _– _liked _– _this old fool, sometimes the old wizard was just annoying the hell out of him. _

_"And whom did you chose as the new prefect?" Albus asked, for once accepting his words. "And what will you call your new house even?"_

_"I have no answer to your second question, Albus." He sighed, running his hand over his face tiredly. Merlin, he was getting old, because last year this particular situation would not have had cost so much energy from him, he was sure about that. "The colours of this new house however seemed to be different shades of brown, seeing that the castle is adding more and more of these colors to anything that has to do with my students. Maybe we just will have to wait for the castle to add the animal and we will know the house's name. As for your first question, I have chosen Ronald Weasley."_

**End flashback**

Well, if nothing had caused a startled gasp, then those words had.

Albus had looked at him as if he had grown two added heads like that blasted cerberus Hagrid had dragged along into the castle, and Minerva had given away a startled "Severus!", her eyes as wide in shock as were Harry's when the boy was scared or startled – just the occasional owlishly blinking had been missing.

Well, he could understand their shock, honestly, because Ronald of all people – that boy never had been one of his favourite students after all.

"I suggest you simply explore your new rooms and then lay down for half an hour at least." He said when Harry had calmed down enough so that the skeleton in his arms wasn't shaking anymore. "You will find nametags at the doors leading to your rooms. The girls' rooms are at the right hand side and the boy's rooms are at the left hand side."

He gently pushed Harry further into the wide corridor when the boy made no move to enter the corridor by himself.

"The first room here is yours, Harry, and Adrian's." He said while opening the door, somehow knowing that the child would not open the door himself. "Draco and Theodore are just next door. Please look for your own rooms and claim them, all of you." He then added, knowing that the next emotional breakdown was about to happen, knowing that the other children would understand why he accompanied Harry to his room but not them, all of them knowing about their friend's life with his relatives.

The child had never had a room for himself, not even one to share with his cousin. This child had been denied a room at all while he had been kept in a cupboard the way one would keep a shoe box with old things in a cupboard, like one would keep hidden things in a cupboard, things no one was to see or like one would keep things in a cupboard which they didn't know where else to put them, which they wanted to forget.

Leading his son through the room and towards the window where he could see the lake with the giant squid squirming and sprawling, he again, like so often lately, had to push his own anger and fury back so that he would not startle the child, knowing that soon he would have to visit Lily's sister or he would explode.

"You even are able opening the window to let in fresh air, Harry." He softly said. "You of course won't be able climbing out, seeing that this part of the dungeons is surrounded by tons of rocks, but the windows are enchanted to open up to you, to let in light and fresh air and to show you what happens outside.

There still was no answer from the boy and somehow he knew that Harry simply was unable to give away any kind of answer, the child fighting with his own emotions and he even could see the strain of trying to control them on the pale face.

A moment later Adrian was in front of Harry, looking into the desperate and unbelieving green eyes before wrapping his own thin arms around the older boy's skeletal frame and another moment later Harry slowly brought up his own fragile limbs to pull the other boy's head close, as if to say _'everything is alright, don't worry'_ and he huffed at the gesture, seeing that Harry was no bit taller than the boy he was comforting.

For a moment he caught his son's eyes, momentarily so very emotional, telling a life-story with only one gaze, but he knew that soon, too soon, they were close to impassive and lethargic again. Not really impassive and lethargic, not in the way they had been in the end of their imprisonment, but not full of life like they should be, like Lily's eyes had been, either. There was more life in them now, but not enough and again he could feel his chest clenching painfully at the thought that no child should have such lifeless eyes as had some of these children here.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Harry had not roamed his new room to explore, nor had he unpacked his trunk the house elves had brought down here. He had looked through the room, had released Adrian with a final pat at the other boy's shoulder and then he had turned to lay down at the bed at which's foot his trunk stood, had turned his back on them and curling into a small ball he had started crying, so softly it had been barely audible, but he had seen the small and thin shoulders shaking with the silent sobs.

He hadn't been able to resist then, this particular boy destroying all resolve he'd ever had against comforting snotty and crying children, and he had sat at the edge of Harry's bed and running his fingers through the child's black and messy hair for over an hour until the child had calmed down, knowing that it had not been tears of unhappiness but desperate and painful tears for all he had missed as a child, tears for everything he had not had and tears for all the pain and fear he'd had to endure for ten long years.

Harry hadn't fallen asleep after crying this time, as tired as he had been, but he had calmed down and in the end the child had been laying there, holding a softly whispered conversation with him so that he wouldn't wake Adrian who had fallen asleep earlier, a softly whispered conversation about how to thank him best for the large room with such nice furniture and windows, and other things like the books in the shelves, the shelves in the first place and of course the carpets, the fire and the quills and parchment on the desks and never mind how much he had tried to make it clear to his son that he didn't have to thank him for normal things like a room, food, a bed to sleep in or clothes, school things, to belong, to be loved to be a part of the family – somehow the child had not understood what he had tried to tell him.

And how could he even?

The child never had gotten any of those things, how should he now understand? How should he now know how to handle such a situation? How should he understand that this was normal, something every child had, something that had been denied of him for years but something that he should have had? Of course the child did not understand.

However, most of the students had "taken a nap" even if they swore brick and stone that they had _not_ taken a nap, anything but a _nap_, that they had been only _resting_ in their rooms, looking around, reading a few books, or trying to find hidden doors. They had crawled out of their holes one by one like rats shortly before dinner and they had gone to the great hall together.

Dinner itself had not been such a quiet affair like lunch had been, the children chatting about their rooms, telling others what they had found and how they liked their new rooms – or their new home generally.

"Hey, did you hear the squealing board in the corridor?" Miles asked, wide-eyed and he inwardly smirked, knowing that the boy surely must have tried to visit Emma in her room.

"It's surely a board that squeals when a boy tries to get into a girl's room." Neville answered the boy.

"Why?" Miles then asked and he sighed. In Slytherin so far there had not been the necessity to keep boys out of a girl's room as the Slytherin common room automatically kept boys from being able to even approach a girl's dormitory and vice versa.

"Because … well, because they're girls … and well, for a boy it's inappropriate to visit a girl's room." Neville said, while trying to make out what was on his sandwich.

"It is ham with eggs, salad and tomatoes." He said. "And boys are not allowed in a girl's dormitory as the ministry – and some parents – do wish them separated out of fear they could do something inappropriate – not to mention that there might be moments when they would like some privacy. I however have changed this rule so that it goes the other way round too – a girl cannot enter a boy's room either to make the situation a bit more fair. If you wish to meet, then I suggest you simply do so in our living-room."

"Oh." Was heard from Hermione while Ronald was smirking at the girl and he only could guess the reason for that, the girl surely having had visited the boys' dormitory in the past up there in their tower.

"But _why_?" Miles asked, and he sighed.

"As an eleven or twelve year old boy you have more important things on your mind than the other gender, but a girl with thirteen or fourteen does wish to have some privacy as their bodies change, their priorities shift and they have become more aware of the differences between you and them." He tried to explain it to the boy in a way so that he might understand. "Not to mention the little fact that they might change in their rooms and they do not wish you to see them without clothes. This is the meaning of privacy, they wish to be alone or amongst their friends for some activities."

"That's stupid." The boy said, shaking his head. "I don't mind Emma being in the room when I change."

"That's because you're younger." Neville said. "I would mind now if Lavender were in my room when I'd change."

"'k." The boy said, but he could hear that he had not understood anyway. But well, he didn't have to understand it completely, he just had to act accordingly. The understanding part would come later.

"There is a time for everything." He said. "There is a time for you to play around and simply be a child, there is a time for you to attend school and start learning and there is a time for you to grow up and understand things like sexuality and privacy, Miles. You will have to accept this kind of natural order of things as you cannot change it anyway."

"And what's with that doorknob that sobs whenever someone opens the library?" Theodore asked.

"Well, I don't really know, but that's the reason as to why I have kept the library door open." He sighed while shoving his plate away after having finished his sandwich. "I have tried to solve the problem since the early morning hours but without success. I just suggest that we simply keep that door open until we have found a solution. I also suggest you do not listen to the ghost in the frame hanging beside the kitchen should you go for a late night snack, I have tried to get him out of there, but apparently the castle had a reason as to why it placed the picture there, because I cannot take it from the wall."

"Whose ghost is it?" Harry asked confused. "Because I haven't seen a ghost in that frame, it's been empty."

"I don't know, it's been there last night when the castle has created these rooms, talking nonsense all night whenever I have come close." He said, frowning. "It's been gone in the morning though."

"Well, I guess it wouldn't be Hogwarts if there weren't a few things that were strange." Harry said, shrugging his shoulders and placing the remainder of his sandwich at his plate, shoving the plate away and leaning back with a suffering sigh, clearly feeling full already.

"I fear you are right, Harry." He said, not commenting on Harry's unfinished plate. The boy had eaten well today and if he pushed him too far, then he only would destroy what the child had _'learned'_ about eating so far. "It would not be Hogwarts. Are you ready for your PE lessons?"

Well, if he had thought that this particular comment would elicit happy smiles on the children's faces, then he had been very much mistaken, but luckily he had not thought so. There wasn't PE on Hogwarts' schedule so far and except of those on the Quidditch teams the children were not used to any physical activities and of course such a suggestion would cause many groans, many "do we have to" and many "oh no" from most of them.

He got up anyway after they all were finished with their dinner and then led them back down into their own part of the dungeons, not through the door to their left at the end of the corridor this time however, but through a large double door to their right that led into a very large gym. He explained to them that further down the corridor they would find another double winged door at the right hand, one that would lead to their own laboratory, and a larger one even than the regular school laboratories, causing Harry to give away a huff and Neville to groan, murmuring something about 'of course the castle would create a potions laboratory for them, with their head of house being a Potions Master'.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Well, he had known that at least Harry and Draco would be very happy about the gym after leading the children in there and the two boys immediately had launched at the balance beam – he had been very glad then that he already had laid out mats earlier in the day, just in case Harry would fall. He didn't think that the boy would, Harry was on the Quidditch team since four years after all, was an excellent flyer, he had to admit that if he liked it or not, but he didn't trust the child's health at the present time and surely he wouldn't allow him on a broom anytime soon.

He had known that Theodore, Adrian and Cameron would be very happy about the gym too, Cameron having been on the Slytherin Quidditch team too and Adrian being a very active child as well. At the same time he had known that Gregory and Vincent as well as Dean and Seamus would be _not_ so happy about it, all of them being rather placid boys, loving a sofa and either a good book or a good game.

Ronald and Blaise both tried their best and they had definitely fun, but they were not very sportive in the first place.

Horror – this gym apparently was for Neville, Emma and Hermione, all three of them trying to sneak out of the entire thing.

Neville and Emma he could understand, both simply being clumsy and they knew it. Merlin, Emma wasn't even able to tie her laces yet and now she was expected to climb the wall bars or to balance on the balance beam? Of course not. And the same it was with Neville, this boy stumbled over his own feet if he weren't exceptionally careful.

He however had thought that Hermione might have a _bit_ of fun in this, even if this was nothing the girl could learn out of a book and …

"Harry!" He yelled when the boy was trying to get onto his hands – on the balancing beam – and fell down, causing his heart to stop for a moment before he had himself back under control and hurried over to the boy.

"Are you alright, Harry?" He couldn't help asking, unable to keep the worry out of his voice when the boy sat there on the mat, pale and blinking in shock. "Harry? Are you hurt somewhere? Harry!"

"What … no – no, I'm fine …" The boy softly stammered, still looking up at him in shock. "What … what happened?"

"You fell off the beam, child." He said, taking a deep breath while at the same time he ran a diagnostic. "Are you hurt, Harry?"

"No … I know that I fell … but … but why would I … I've never …"

Alright, so the child only was in shock because he _did_ fall to begin with. He anyway only dared taking a deep breath with relief after he had cast a quick glance at the diagnostic and really found nothing that caused him immediate attention. And considering the boy's stunts he had done on a broom high above the earth in midair, on a Quidditch pitch, well, of course this must have been a shock for him.

"You fell, you silly child." He said, helping the child to stand on trembling feet. "And it is no wonder that you fell. Your entire system is working with limited and restricted power and that goes for your sense of balance as well as for your strength and your condition. You have to build energy slowly, Harry, and you have to be careful in the beginning. Here drink this. Are you alright now?"

Well, the boy nodded, despite being deathly pale and he had ended the class there.

He had them sitting on the mats for a few more minutes, drinking juice and chatting away some time, just so that all of them could get used to the room, so that maybe even Hermione, Emma and Neville would find a reason to feel comfortable in the gym. Harry was leaning with his back against his chest and the boy was visibly calming down.

Looking around over all the children's faces he could see the tell-tale signs of weariness in all of them and with a pang he remembered how much all of them had been forced to go through, all the children gathered here in this room, they all had their own horror stories to tell, small tales or big ones, tales of heroism or tales of fearfulness, tales of strength or tales of weakness – but not one single tale less important than any other one.

Looking down at the small form leaning against his chest he noticed that – again – the child, his son, had fallen asleep on him and for a moment he wasn't sure if he should feel annoyed at the child always falling asleep on him, or if he should smirk with amusement. But in the end, it didn't matter.

Harry was alive still, and that was the only thing that mattered at all. They all were alive still, even Harry, as weak as the child still was.

break ... ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ... line

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued<strong>

**Next time in A few days more**

_______Another day, another class, another teacher_______

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too, thank you …

**House cup: **

At the present time it looks like this:

708 - Gryffindor - Head of House: Catlady

701 - Slytherin - Head of House: evil minded

576 - Ravenclaw - Head of House: Arithmancy Master

340 - Hufflepuff - Head of House: still a free post


	10. a tear for the black lily

**Title:**

A few days more

Sequel to twenty-one days

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Fourth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

"A few days more" is the sequel to "Twenty-one days" – read and review this first or you wouldn't understand all that happens in this story.

The fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindors have survived their imprisonment in the potions classroom situated in the dungeons. How will they go on in all-day life after their survival? How will they manage to reintegrate into the castle's routine and their classes? How will they be able to go back to life at all? Watch how those who survived fight for their lives and for their peace, for their place in the community at Hogwarts.

**Disclaimer: **

Did you see Severus alive at the end of _'The deathly hallows'_? no?

Do you think I would have had him died if I had written those books? no?

Then you know that _'Harry Potter'_ does not belong to me … nor does Severus … regrettably … he belongs to J. K. Rowling …

But Hereweald Hrothgar does …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Warning:**

Story contains references to child abuse.

Child-abuse is a really serious thing, it is an evil thing and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help without being helped, and closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist, is no solution …

I only say - remind yourself of your feelings, of your sympathy, and of your understanding … and handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once being abused … with understanding and with help …

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me - I am …

* * *

><p>break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line<p>

**Previously in A few days more**

_He had them sitting on the mats for a few more minutes, drinking juice and chatting away some time, just so that all of them could get used to the room, so that maybe even Hermione, Emma and Neville would find a reason to feel comfortable in the gym. Harry was leaning with his back against his chest and the boy was visibly calming down. _

_Looking around over all the children's faces he could see the tell-tale signs of weariness at all of them and with a pang he remembered how much all of them had been forced to go through, all the children gathered here in this room, they all had their own horror stories to tell, small tales or big ones, tales of heroism or tales of fearfulness, tales of strength or tales of weakness – but not one single tale less important than any other one. _

_Looking down at the small form leaning against his chest he noticed that – again – the child, his son, had fallen asleep on him and for a moment he wasn't sure if he should feel annoyed at the child always falling asleep on him, or if he should smirk with amusement. But in the end, it didn't matter, because in the end he enjoyed the feeling of holding the child, even if he never would admit it. _

_Harry was alive still, and that was the only thing that mattered at all. They all were alive still, even Harry, as weak as the child still was._

**A few days more**

**Chapter ten **

**Day nine – first of October – Tuesday **

**A tear for the black lily**

"I want you all to choose one of these flowers and to watch them." Professor Sprout said, pointing at the planted flowers in greenhouse seven and he looked around, frowning. So far they never had worked with plants that were simple flowers but with plants that had one or another magical ability, that were good for healing or were used in one or another potion and he wandered over to a bush of black lilies, not noticing the smile Professor Sprout gave away at the choice of his bush. "I want you to listen to the flowers you have chosen, to watch them, to feel them and I want you to listen to yourself, try to see what the plant is doing to you, to your mind, to your body, to your heart and to your magical core. And last but not least, I want you to find a way to remember this exact kind of feeling, because at the end of the school year we will write a test about the connection between a flower and your magical core. Start now, and if you have any questions, then just ask."

Still not really understanding what a flower could do with his magical core he sat down on the floor and reaching out he carefully ran his fingertips over one of the black petals, amazed at the beauty of the dark and delicate flower.

He often had cared for the flowers in aunt Petunia's garden, had watered them, had planted them into bigger beds, had fed them with plant food, but never had he felt anything except for pity, knowing that aunt Petunia wouldn't care about them, like she never cared about him, that she had him planting them when he was there, so that the neighbours would see her beautiful garden, but that she soon would forget them when he had left for Hogwarts, leaving the flowers to die.

For some time he had thought that aunt Petunia loved those flowers more than him and as strange as it had been, it had hurt, this knowledge. He should have been happy for them, for the flowers, because wasn't that proof that they were something worth being loved? But somehow it also had shown him – aunt Petunia was capable of loving something, anything, but not him, and that was proof that he was not worth being loved.

But then he had started Hogwarts and the plants had died whenever he had left number four, Privet Drive and he had known that aunt Petunia just didn't love them either, that she didn't care for them either, like she never cared for him.

Again, it should have been a consoling thought, the knowledge that maybe he wasn't completely unworthy being loved because aunt Petunia didn't love those flowers either, even though they were pure and not evil and didn't do anything, even though they were clean and beauty and very much lovable, because that meant that maybe he too was lovable and aunt Petunia just wasn't able to feel love – except for Dudley.

But it hadn't been a consoling thought either, because he had started to wonder – if aunt Petunia was able to let those flowers die, then maybe she would be able letting him die one day? To simply forget him and to simply let him die? To never feed him again until he was dead?

It had been a thought that had crossed his mind more and more over the time, over the years and often he had wondered what might have had happened if he hadn't started Hogwarts, somehow knowing, somehow _feeling_ that he might be dead if he hadn't, because here at Hogwarts was the only place where he could recover, where he could eat regularly, where he had enough food, where he wouldn't be starved.

Where he wouldn't be beaten.

Where he wouldn't be killed.

Where he …

Picking one of the fallen petals from the ground he wondered what kind of flower it was, because aunt Petunia never had planted this one. Aunt Petunia had him planting roses in her garden, tulips and petunias – of course petunias. Every balcony in the house was decorated with petunias, the heavy and earthy smell hanging in the air around the house.

He had brought a lily once, having gotten the plant from Mrs. Figg, but aunt Petunia had thrown the plant into the fire and even if she barely had ever beaten him, normally leaving this task for uncle Vernon and only hitting the pan at him once in a while or throwing a cup at him sometimes, back then she had given him a beating that had been worth one of uncle Vernon's beatings, only that _she_ never had stopped, that _she_ had beaten him for what had felt like hours and hours without an end and he had wished he finally might die.

Never ever again had he brought home _any_ plant.

It had been in later years that he had known the reason for aunt Petunia being so very angry, that it had been the lily itself, the flower that had given his mother her name and aunt Petunia had hated her sister. Of course she would hate everything that had to do with her, even a plant that happened to just have the same name.

And of course she would hate him too, because he was the son of her sister.

He wasn't even so sure if it really was the magic why they hated him so much, because for a long time he hadn't done any magic, back in the beginning, when he had been really small. But he always had been the son of aunt Petunia's sister. He didn't know why aunt Petunia hated her sister so much, somehow knowing that it wasn't only because "magic was unnatural", knowing that somehow there had to be more – but he didn't know what it was.

Maybe he could have changed it if he had known.

Maybe he could have changed Severus hating him if he had known why the Professor had hated him so much. He understood that Severus hated his father, because they had been in school together and their rivalry was very much like Draco's and his had been, only worse and somehow he knew that there must have been something really foolish his father had done.

But a fact was – aunt Petunia had hated her sister, his mother, and he was the son of her sister and Severus had hated his father, and he was the son of his father.

Was he always responsible for any mistakes his parents had done?

Did this make any difference? The hate between aunt Petunia and his mother or Severus and his father?

He guessed that yes, it did make a difference, because Severus didn't hate him anymore now, because Severus had adopted him, was his father now and he acted like a father, he loved him and he had been so sad and desperate, Merlin, Severus, Professor Snape, he even had _cried_ down there in the potions classroom, because he, Harry, had been so close to death.

But if Severus could change like this, did this mean that aunt Petunia maybe would have changed in the same way? That maybe …

Already at the same moment he knew that no, aunt Petunia never would have changed in this situation, because aunt Petunia had so often watched him being hungry and she so often had watched him being in pain and injured and being beaten by uncle Vernon and … and aunt Petunia had … it only was proof that aunt Petunia had just never cared … watching him being in pain and … and hungry and … and …

He didn't notice the black clad figure kneeling beside him, the older wizard picking him up from the ground and carrying him home, holding him close, because his own world had started drowning in unbearable pain, in emotional pain like he never before had felt, that had him suffocating, that had him going crazy at any moment, that had his world collapsing over his head, shattering in thousands and thousands of pieces that felt as if it were his heart that was being ripped in thousands and thousands of pieces.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

From what Severus had told her, she had hoped that Harry would choose a different flower, a rose maybe, or an orchid, while at the same time she had wondered if maybe the black lily would be the best plant for the boy, the black lily waking emotions that had to do with memories.

But then Harry had walked over to exactly this plant, the green eyes, Lily's green eyes being fixed at the black lily and she knew that she better informed Severus.

Of course she was capable of handling an emotional student, she was the head of a house after all but one – Harry was Severus' son now and somehow she knew that the boy was in best hands with his father, and two – it had been Severus after all who had created the black lily to begin with and therefore knew best what to do, even though as the herbology professor she knew very well what kind of plant it was, what it did and how to take care of any outcome.

And yes, as this particular man's son – of course the boy would be called by _this_ particular plant.

"Dippy." She softly called for her house elf. "Please go and get Professor Snape." She said when the small creature appeared.

There was a soft pop after a just as soft "of course, Mistress Sprout" and only a minute later the Potions Master stood in her greenhouse, the man not even having bothered walking down here, but having her house elf bringing him and he already looked worried.

"Pomona?" Was the immediate question even before Dippy was gone again.

"Your son." She said, gesturing over to where the boy was sitting on the floor, in front of the black lily, a tear running down the thin and pale face and she could hear the sharp hiss from the Potions Master before the man already was about to storm over to the child.

"Not yet." She softly said, placing her hand atop the man's arm, ignoring the sharp look in the black eyes that watched her with anger for a moment before her younger colleague gave a sigh away, accompanied by a nod.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Of course he knew what Pomona's intentions had been and he also realized that she had not been planning to place Harry in front of the black lily, knew that this plant called the people who might need her, but knowing what this particular plant could do with this particular child, he didn't like it, knowing the emotional pain his son was to go through if they allowed the plant her way, if they … but then – was not this the reason he had created this particular lily?

How Pomona had gotten hold of the plant was a riddle to him, as the black lily was reserved for St. Mungo's only, but knowing that this class surely was no regular school class anymore, that these children all would belong into St. Mungo's too anyway – at least one way or another – well, he at least could understand what Pomona was doing and why she was doing it.

And maybe he would have done the same, even though he would not have done it so soon.

"He will be alright, Severus." The idiot woman said, as if he were worried.

He wasn't worried at all!

"Of course he will, idiot woman." He growled as darkly as possible, his eyes narrowed at the child that started rocking back and forth in front of the blasted flower and he had to force himself to stay put, to not act up to his instincts and to simply take the child away from the plant, knowing the thoughts that surely might go through the child's mind.

It was only moments later when he was unable to resist any longer and he simply ignored his common sense and started walking over to the child. He was a step away only when he stopped mid-step, frozen at the piercing scream, a scream that made his blood running cold in horror before he was at Harry's side with one last quick step kneeling beside the screaming child, unable to draw a breath, unable to think a clear thought while he even could see the waves over waves of emotional pain radiating off his son.

Without a word, knowing that Harry wouldn't hear him anyway, not knowing what to say anyway, barely about to imagine the unbearable pain the child had to be in he gathered the small form into his arms and picked him off the floor and just as wordlessly he carried the still screaming child out of the greenhouse, over the grounds and into the castle, through the entrance hall and down the stairs that led to their current residence, not caring if anyone saw them, not caring about any students that might cross the entrance hall right now, not caring about anything at all except of getting his son home and for a moment he even considered getting a calming draught into the child – but then he thought better, knowing that even if he had chosen a later point in time for such, it was necessary for the child to release his pain for once, to have this moment, to remember, to understand and to heal, never mind how hard it was for him, Snape, watching this, knowing that he could do nothing except of sitting there and holding the child until he had calmed down himself, until whatever was to happen _had_ happened.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Let them, Adrian." Cameron said, taking the boy's arm when he jumped up to run after Professor Snape and Harry, the boy shaking with horror and worry. "Professor Snape will take care of Harry, let them have this moment for themselves."

"But … but Harry!" The boy stammered, wide-eyed.

"Professor Snape will take care of him, Adrian, like he always takes care of us, trust him."

"Know!" The boy sobbed. "But Harry!"

"Harry will be alright in the end, just let them be right now, Adrian!" He said a bit more forceful. "It will be alright, Adrian, trust me."

Well, a moment later _he_ had a sobbing child clinging to him too and he sighed. He wasn't the cradling type, really not, such was reserved for babies and girls but not for nearly grown boys, not for a soon to be man, but well, he knew his place in the group and as the oldest here, it was his duty too to comfort them. So, experimentally he patted the boy's head for a moment, hoping that the gesture would be enough to stop Adrian's tears but well, he should have known that it wouldn't and with a suffering sigh he carefully folded his arms around the boy.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Professor Sprout had told them to eat their snacks, apples this time, and to talk together, about their experiences with _'their'_ plants, but it had been clear that in their minds they all had been with Harry, wondering what had happened to him, why he had screamed like a banshee, wondering what might have caused so much pain to him, or fear, or whatever it had been.

Merlin! Harry had nearly died earlier in the year but he hadn't screamed like that!

Harry had fought a troll and he'd fought a basilisk and then he'd fought all those dementors, he'd nearly died in the potions classroom, he'd had this potions accident after Weasley had thrown the beetle's eye into his cauldron, but never had Harry screamed like this and even the memory of it caused goose bumps appearing all over his body.

"Draco?" Neville asked and he sighed, forcing himself back into the right now.

"I don't get this." He complained. "And I don't see why uncle Severus would put me into this class now. I lack an entire year of arithmancy, people start in their third year, I haven't, I have taken divination."

"It's easy, Draco." Neville said and he huffed. "See, if you use the Agrippan method the letters of a recent version of the Latin alphabet are assigned numerical values …"

"Wait …" Draco said, confused. "I thought that Agrippa was a celebrated wizard imprisoned by muggles for his writing because they thought his books were evil. The chocolate frog cards say so."

"Yes, but his books _are_ about just that." Neville said. "In his book 'De Occulta Philosophia from 1531 Agippa encouraged the study of magic, explaining the world in terms of cabalistic analyses of Hebrew letters and Pythagorean numerology. He was imprisoned because he believed that magic was the best means to know God and nature and …"

"If you have nothing better to do than chatting away time, then you best leave this classroom, Mr. Longbottom." Professor Vector said, looming over them and he looked up at the woman, startled. "And here I thought that you were in my class long enough so that you know my rules already, you disappoint me, boy."

"He only explained …"

"Silent, Mr. Malfoy, this is not your place to open this mouth of yours." Professor Vector said, looking down her nose at him and he frowned. Merlin, contraire to this woman Professor McGonagall was a lovely kitten! Or at least he thought so right now. "Mr. Longbottom, I see you next week on Thursday, if you are able to be silent in my class then, that is."

For a moment he blinked in near shock while watching Neville packing his things together, but then he stood too and started packing his own things. If Neville was thrown out because he explained him something, then _he_ should be thrown out too because he had asked for an explanation.

"What are you doing, Mr. Malfoy?" Professor Vector asked, sounding as if she never before had seen a student packing his things.

"Well, if Neville is thrown out of class because of talking, then I'll have to leave too, because I've been talking too." He simply said.

"You will sit down right now, Mr. Malfoy!" Professor Vector said. "Students only leave my class if I tell them to and not because it comes to their idiot little minds."

"Just sit down, Draco." Neville whispered. "I'll be fine, isn't the first time, see you later." And gone he was while he, Draco, stood there in shock still.

How could this woman be so unfair? He had been talking just like Neville and he didn't have an _'idiot little mind'_, his thinking had been perfectly logical, because …

"Sit down, Mr. Malfoy, and try to solve the task I have given." Professor Vector said and for a moment he actually considered going against her order and following Neville anyway, but he knew what Severus would say to that.

Of course uncle Severus was at their side, always had been, but as a Slytherin – or former Slytherin – as one of uncle Severus' students, he knew perfectly well that if he was punished by a teacher – he was punished by uncle Severus too and _this_ was anything than fun. Uncle Severus might punish them in privacy, but he was anything than lenient in any punishment he doled out.

The Potions Master and Head of Slytherin did not like it if his students didn't behave. He always stood up for them, he always helped them and he always did for them what was humanly possible. He comforted them if they were sad, he cared for them if they were ill and he talked to them if they had problems – he knew that uncle Severus would die for them if necessary, but he punished them really severely if they misbehaved, even if they thought they were handled unfairly.

_"Life isn't fair, Mr. Malfoy."_ He used to say. _"And you better learn to control your emotions or you will end up being played with by people that might not have your best interest in their minds but their own."_

And so he sat down, even though he would like not to.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

It was half an hour later, but finally Harry had calmed down enough so that he had ceased his screaming, had settled down to a soft crying and he breathed a sigh of relief, even if this relief was short lived, because the small skeleton still was shaking in his arms, still crying desperately and the fever that had not come back for days – it was back now and gently he placed the boy at the bed in his room.

He ran his hand over his face, feeling more tired than he had felt since long, but then he started to undress the boy, meeting no resistance while he pulled the limp arms out of the sleeves and the limp legs out of the trousers.

He had seen the boy's line of thinking, during the past half an hour, he had seen all the linking thoughts, the questions and the realizations of the entire situation, the sudden understanding and he had felt – no, he had not felt the child's entire pain, because no one would be able to feel the child's pain, but he had felt it to some extent.

And now?

Now this blasted fever was back and the child was burning up.

"'M sorry, sir." Harry sobbed and gently he tried to hush the child. "So sorry." The boy sobbed anyway. "Should be happy now … but … but … shouldn't always cry and … I just don't understand and …"

"Hush, child." He said while running his palm over the boy's burning forehead before taking the cool flannel and wrapping it around the child's calves, Harry still sobbing uncontrollably even though he clearly tried to stop. "You have been through hell in your life, Harry. And while you have been in the midst of it, you did not have the time to relax, to realize what had happened to you, to allow yourself to feel, to mourn or to even care. You did not have the time to be weak or you would not have survived." He tried to explain, running another cool cloth over the just as warm chest. "And now, that this all is over and your body has time to relax and to recover, finally, the adrenalin in your system is leaving and finally you can see, finally you can care and finally you can feel. Now you are allowed to finally being simply weak and to admit that it indeed _did_ bother you. And this kind of new pain will have to be released, Harry. Do not apologize for crying, because it not only is necessary but you also have every right to cry. And not only because you are a child, but you have the right to cry for all that has been done to you and you have the right to cry for all you had to endure, for all you have missed and for all that has been denied of you."

Well, if there was anything else he could have said, this still seemed to have been the right words, because even an hour later there was still the fever, but the child also had turned on the bed, had reached out with his arms like a small child that wanted to be picked up and still, an hour later, the child was sobbing into his chest. More softly now, more calmly, not so uncontrolled anymore and it wasn't caused by the same unbearable pain anymore, but still the child was crying and he swore, he soon would go and visit the Dursleys.

A day of pain for each tear Harry was crying because of them. He would settle for no less than that!

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

It was half an hour later that the disaster started.

He was having his own problems with this blasted kind of class, not understanding how it was that Hermione had already finished her work, not understanding why Neville had been thrown out of class for trying to explain this crap to Draco, not understanding why he had to learn it in the first place and he started to really dislike this arithmancy Professor.

Why Professor Snape wanted them all in arithmancy to begin with was a riddle to him too.

"What are you doing, Mr. Granary!" Professor Vector shouted and Miles, who had placed his head over his arms on the table jumped up with a startled gasp, clearly scared and honestly, if he were a firsty – or a second year, alright – then he too would be scared of Vector. That woman was a dragon! And Neville, whose cloak Miles had clung to, Neville was gone, thrown out of class by this dragon.

"Excuse me, Professor Vector." He said as politely as possible and even his mom would be very proud of him if she could hear him now. "It has been a long day so far for some of us and maybe you could please excuse Miles and a few others for the last half an hour of class so that they can rest before lunch." Here! This surely would do and surely even Snape wouldn't regret having made him the prefect.

"And why should I do so, Mr. Weasley?" The professor asked and he sighed.

"Because they are tired and because they need their rest, Madam." He answered, keeping his annoyance under control. "They have been through enough and I just ask you to go slow on them in the beginning, it's only their second day of classes."

"It is _not_ Mr. Granary's second day, Mr. Weasley and I ask you to sit back down or to leave this classroom right now." The woman said.

"I will do neither of the two, Professor, or I will leave the classroom together with the entire class right now." He said, his stomach squirming with nerves.

He surely wasn't the most polite student here at Hogwarts and he knew that, he was considered a troublemaker even by some, like Snape, but never before had he actively gone against a teacher like he did now and to be honest, he was scared a bit, knowing that surely that would end in trouble, and most likely in a lot of trouble.

But he couldn't let them being treated like that, because they were tired and they surely deserved it to be cared for by all the teachers, not only Snape and …

"And who exactly do you think you are, Mr. Weasley, that you think you can speak to me like this?" Professor Vector asked and he sighed.

"I'm the prefect of this group here." He answered, trying to sound as calm as possible instead of as nervous as he felt.

"Very well, Mr. Weasley, then as the prefect of this group you surely will overtake the responsibility for the group – in other words, they might go, right now, but you will stay for detention."

"We surely won't go and leave Ronald back." Draco said, getting off his chair.

"You will go right now or I will have a word with your … _'head of house'_. I am sure that Snape will be very pleased to hear about the misbehaviour of his students."

"Just go, Draco." Ron said, scared. "Take the others to the great hall already, lunch will be in half an hour. I'll be there later."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

But well, later it was and Weasley still wasn't there.

He'd brought the others to the great hall before they would get into more trouble than they already were in, but Lunch appeared and Weasley still wasn't there. Neither were Harry and Severus.

Merlin, what a day!

At least they had a free period for the remainder of the day, only PE this evening after dinner but PE they had with Severus and that was easy. Well, maybe not easy, but at least they were understood and cared for there.

Leaning his head over his arms atop the table he took a deep breath to calm himself, because he rather felt like hiding away and crying than like having lunch in the great hall. He could understand that the teachers wanted to teach them, that they wanted a smooth lesson so that they, the children, could actually learn something, he also could understand that the teachers might be impatient because they were tired of snotty children or of children that didn't want to learn, but he couldn't understand that some teachers acted the way they did. Creighton with his comment during their first lunch they'd had in the great hall during the weekend, and now Vector with her behaviour against them.

Because they were no snotty children that didn't want to learn. They tried, and they tried their best!

And he knew why Vector had acted the way she had anyway, namely because she had wanted to teach them a lesson, to show them that they couldn't mess around with _her_, but neither of them had wanted doing any messing around, they only had been tired, still were tired, now more than before and they wouldn't have made any trouble while resting for a moment.

A warm hand on his back startled him out of his thoughts and he shot up from his resting point on the table.

"Care to tell me where Ronald is, Draco?" Severus asked, softly, and he didn't sound annoyed or angry, only worried, the dark black eyes warm and soft on him too.

"Well, he's still with Professor Vector …" He carefully said, trying to find words that would get neither him, Draco, nor Ronald or any of the others into more trouble than they already were in.

"Do not tell me that Professor Vector kept him for detention, Draco." Severus said, sounding very serious.

"She did." He answered with a defeating sigh. "Some of us laid their heads on their arms to rest, just for a moment, because they were tired and Professor Vector screamed at them. Weasley only tried to explain that they were tired and that they needed rest."

"I see." Severus said, still very seriously, but the man didn't seem angry at him or any of them.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

He kept his hand for a few more moments on Draco's shoulder to show the boy that he was not angry with them before he gave a slight pat at the boy's shoulder and then got up with the order for the others to start eating already but to wait for his return before leaving the great hall.

Then he left the hall, crossed the entrance hall and entered the corridor that led to the arithmancy classroom, up a flight of stairs and then he turned left.

He entered the classroom without even bothering to knock.

"I fear you have one of my students, Septima." He said without a greeting.

They had discussed that, what the children needed, and even if he knew that some of the teachers wouldn't understand – he at least had thought that Septima would. He knew that the woman had been a prisoner in an Iranian prison some years ago and he also knew that this was anything but fun – in other words, she at least should understand.

"I fear that your student might have to learn that it is not always appropriate to speak his mind, Severus." Septima answered and he took a deep breath.

"I suggest that we take this conversation outside your classroom, Septima." He said, trying to be as patient as possible.

"I don't think so." Septima answered, straightening and standing before him, defiantly. "There is nothing to discuss in the first place."

"Very well." He sighed. "Mr. Weasley, pack your things and go to the great hall for lunch, now."

There was no word against his decision from Septima but he could see her taking in a sharp breath. He waited until Ronald had packed his things and then had left the classroom, wordlessly, only inclining his head towards him in a gesture of thanks which he answered with the same silent inclining of his own head before he turned towards his colleague.

"You either explain yourself towards my person, and soon, or you will face an official inquiry, Septima, because I won't have the health of my students at any risks." He said, calmly but resolutely. "We have discussed conditions for their return to classes and I did not have the impression that you wouldn't understand, especially with your background."

"Do leave my background out of this discussion, Severus." The woman hissed at him, standing on toes to reach at least his shoulder.

"Hit a nerve, Septima?" He asked, still seriously, knowing that his usual sarcasm was out of place here.

"That's not fair, Severus!" Septima hissed back, curling her hands into fists.

"No, it is not." He admitted. "But you have not been fair either from what I heard. I know that it might be hard for you to teach this particular class, that not only bad memories are in the way but your own stubborn belief that you have to be the master of any situation too, that you have to prove whatever it is you think you _have_ to prove, but you do _not_ have to. We all respect you for your _person_, not because you are a hard taskmaster, Septima, and especially do I, you know that. However – if you feel unable teaching this class with the necessary care and responsibility, then I suggest you say so from the beginning on and then I will overtake this class in arithmancy."

"I am, Severus." The woman said and he wasn't sure if her voice sounded angry or just scared.

"Then I expect you to act accordingly." He said, turning on his heels and leaving the classroom.

"Severus?" Septima's unsure voice called him back and he turned, wordlessly looking back at her. "Are you angry with me now?"

Taking a deep breath he took a quick step back into the classroom and towards the smaller woman.

"No, I am not, Septima." He answered, pulling his colleague close to fold his arms around the tense shoulders for a moment. "But no one hurts my students, not even you."

Merlin, why did always _he_ have to pick up the shards behind people!

break ... ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ... line

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued<strong>

**Next time in A few days more**

________How many stone eaters are there?________

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too, thank you …

**House cup: **

At the present time it looks like this:

708 - Gryffindor - Head of House: Catlady

701 - Slytherin - Head of House: evil minded

576 - Ravenclaw - Head of House: Arithmancy Master

340 - Hufflepuff - Head of House: still a free post


	11. Filch and the stone eater

**Title:**

A few days more

Sequel to twenty-one days

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Fourth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

"A few days more" is the sequel to "Twenty-one days" – read and review this first or you wouldn't understand all that happens in this story.

The fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindors have survived their imprisonment in the potions classroom situated in the dungeons. How will they go on in all-day life after their survival? How will they manage to reintegrate into the castle's routine and their classes? How will they be able to go back to life at all? Watch how those who survived fight for their lives and for their peace, for their place in the community at Hogwarts.

**Disclaimer: **

Did you see Severus alive at the end of _'The deathly hallows'_? no?

Do you think I would have had him died if I had written those books? no?

Then you know that _'Harry Potter'_ does not belong to me … nor does Severus … regrettably … he belongs to J. K. Rowling …

But Hereweald Hrothgar does …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Warning:**

Story contains references to child abuse.

Child-abuse is a really serious thing, it is an evil thing and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help without being helped, and closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist, is no solution …

I only say - remind yourself of your feelings, of your sympathy, and of your understanding … and handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once being abused … with understanding and with help …

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me - I am …

* * *

><p>break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line<p>

**Previously in A few days more**

_"That's not fair, Severus!" Septima hissed back, curling her hands into fists._

_"No, it is not." He admitted. "But you have not been fair either from what I heard. I know that it might be hard for you to teach this particular class, that not only bad memories are in the way but your own stubborn belief that you have to be the master of any situation too, but you do not have to. We all respect you for your person, not because you are a hard taskmaster, Septima. However – if you feel unable teaching this class with the necessary care and responsibility due to your own experiences in being a prisoner, then I suggest you say so from the beginning on and then I will overtake this class in arithmancy myself."_

_"I am, Severus." The woman said and he wasn't sure if her voice sounded angry or just scared._

_"Then I expect you to act accordingly." He said, turning on his heels and leaving the classroom._

_"Severus?" Septima's unsure voice called him back and he turned, wordlessly looking back at her. "Are you angry with me now?"_

_Taking a deep breath he took a quick step back into the classroom and towards the smaller woman. _

_"No, I am not, Septima." He answered, pulling his colleague close. "But no one hurts my students, not even you."_

_Merlin, why did always he have to pick up the shards behind people!_

**A few days more**

**Chapter eleven **

**Day ten – second of October – Wednesday **

**Filch and the stone eater**

Turning in his bed he sighed heavily, unable to close his eyes and sleep.

Severus had sent them to bed for their afternoon nap half an hour earlier already and normally he would have fallen asleep long ago, but not today.

He'd fallen asleep last night fairly well, he'd been so tired that he hadn't had any troubles with _that_, not this time, but since he had awoken this morning he couldn't forget the Professor's words. All morning long had he thought of those words his dad had said to him the day before, after he'd taken him from herbology, after he'd taken him home and after he had calmed down enough to finally _understand_ what the man was saying. He'd been embarrassed at first, horrified at the thought that something must have happened and he'd broken down in front of the entire class, apparently crying like a baby because he still had been crying then, embarrassed at the man apparently having had carried him out of class to get him home, but a moment later it had been replaced with the feeling of – of something he wasn't able to describe even, of something he didn't even know what it was, but it had been so warm and so safe and so _anything_, it had been overwhelming. It had been – well, whatever it had been, it had been the fault of why he hadn't been able to stop crying but his dad only had held him, had held him so safely in his arms, holding his head over his chest, running his fingers through his hair, he had felt safe like never ever in his life before.

**Flashback**

_For a moment he wished that the man would just stop speaking, because the Professor's words surely were anything than helping, because the man's words only made him crying harder, but then he gave in to the care his father provided him with, relaxing into the embrace and soaking up the words his father whispered._

_"Your way of thinking is not entirely wrong, child, and of course you would come to exact these connections, but you forget something, Harry." The man said, his soft voice velvet and deep, dark but smooth like a silken blanket, as if the Professor covered him with his voice. "You forget that you are not alone anymore. In the past, your aunt has exactly acted as you have understood now. She hated your mother because she was jealous of her gift, because she was jealous of the love your mother received from not only their parents but from me too, from everyone around them, forgetting that it was her own fault. Petunia could have been loved just as much as Lily, if just she hadn't been such a vindictive character as she actually had been. Your mother always laughed, always was light-hearted, always smiled at people and she always was kind and gentle. She has been the one who greeted people on the street with a smile on her lips, she was the one who infected other people with her laugher, and she was the one who comforted everyone with kind words, even her vindictive sister. Petunia wasn't like that. Petunia always was angry and unkind, her face not friendly and smiling but sour and angry, unhappy. She insulted Lily of being a witch, but she didn't mean it in the context of Lily simply being a person with magical abilities, but in a bad context, as an insult, and only because she was jealous, understanding that Lily got more kindness with the kindness she gave than she, Petunia, forgetting that the way you are treading others you're treaded back. That she married Vernon Dursley, the director of a firm who called a lot of attention to himself and who had a reputation to uphold, who was a vindictive character himself – it didn't help her own situation at all and only worsened her jealousy, watching Lily being happy with Potter while she herself was unhappy in her own marriage. Do not get me wrong, child. To my knowledge Vernon never hurt Petunia, not physically, but he demanded things of her and he could be very unpleasant if his demands were not fulfilled. I think, Petunia learned this very quickly and it only added to the jealousy she already felt of her sister. Of course it would also add to the hate she had felt towards Lily – and in the end towards Lily's son, because Lily was happy and loved in her marriage as she had been in life general while there was no love in Petunia's marriage."_

_And still he was crying in the man's arm, finally knowing why aunt Petunia had hated his mother so much but not understanding why he would have to pay for it. But as if the man had read his thoughts, he continued speaking._

_"If you hate someone so much like Petunia had hated Lily in the end, years and years of hate adding to other years of hate, then in the end you are unable to difference between that person and anything else that has to do with that person." The Professor said, pulling him even closer and he could feel the thumb of the man's hand on his neck running up and down his skin. "And you are quite close to the person Petunia hated, seeing that you are Lily's son. I have acted no better when it came to James and my hate of him, that had reflected towards you in later years then and again, I only can say how sorry I am. Your father had changed into a great man over the years, a man that had died for his family, to protect his wife and his son, he had fought in a war, had protected wizards, witches and muggles alike, and he had done great things in later years. He had however not always been like this. I won't tell you why your father and I had our differences, because James Potter is your father still, never mind what. He died protecting you and I expect you to always honour his memory. Even I, will do so, because if your father had not done this sacrifice, then I would not have you as my son now, because maybe you then would have died back then."_

_"But you wouldn't … you wouldn't know the dif-difference … 'cause you … 'cause you wouldn't know me and … and you hadn't …" Well, somehow he realized that his sobbing didn't make any sense anyway and he stopped, squirming even deeper into the blackness that were his father's robes which promised safety and calmness._

_"No, I would not know you if you had died back then." His father said, seriously, readjusting him so that he was laying there more comfortably. "And no, I would not have learned to know you like I have during the past month, and so no, I would not know what I had missed – but that is irrelevant because I do know you now, because I do love you more than you can imagine, more than I ever thought I could love someone, anyone, more than my own life and now, now I know what I would have missed if you were not there. And therefore I have to be grateful towards your father. Not to mention that, whatever reason for, with you becoming my son, the hate I have felt towards your father has vanished. I doubt that we ever would become friends if he still were alive, but I don't feel the need to hate him anymore now. Understanding you, seeing you, loving you – it has destroyed this need for hate, even though I don't know why." _

**End flashback**

Turning again he remembered his father's words and what they had done to him, how they had made him crying even harder at the understanding of their meaning and – Merlin, somehow he would think that his dad loved it, to have him crying all over him, if he didn't know better, if he didn't know that his father was no one for emotional outbursts.

And yet, the man was so very good at causing them – and calming children.

Sighing he wondered if he should just go and get something to nibble on. They'd really had enough to eat lately, Severus made sure of that, and Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick too.

Professor McGonagall had been very strange on Monday, during their first transfiguration lesson since – the _tragedy_ of Hogwarts – which they had survived. But she's been alright today, having them handling themselves and just watching them and reminding them to drink every now and then, but she had let them their ways in nibbling at a piece of apple during lesson or in taking a short rest during the lesson in form of just leaning atop their desks a bit with their arms and resting their heads over their arms for a moment.

It's been another thing with Professor Flitwick.

The charms teacher had held his lesson calmly – even though he noticed that Flitwick too didn't have them using any magic but stuck to the theory they had learned in the dungeons, talking about that and explaining things, answering questions if they didn't understand one thing or another before he'd had them taking a short rest and a small snack.

**Flashback**

_"Professor Snape explained to us the difference between the epicure charm and the basic summoning charm like the accio charm, Professor Flitwick." He asked, wracking his brain. There were just some things that had happened in the dungeons during that three weeks which he didn't remember, not completely at least, as if he had been half asleep when it had been explained, or as if he'd been too tired to concentrate on everything back then, he wasn't really sure about that. _

_"And what is the difference between the two, Mr. Snape?" Professor Flitwick asked, hopping onto the stack of books and from there onto his desk to sit at the tabletop, leaning his elbows on his thighs and for a moment the small professor looked so strange, relaxed, as if he weren't in a lesson at all but in a … in a whatever it was he could be in that was not a lesson, he didn't know._

_"Well, any basic summoning charm like the accio is to be taught in every wizarding school, it's well, the basic charm." He said, frowning, trying to remember everything and hoping that he explained it well. "Every witch and wizard has to learn it, it's one of the most important charms which we learn in first year even and everyone uses it, for everything. But there are a few things that would get spoiled or at least would lose some of the taste, or power, if summoned by a simple charm and so some people, like gourmets for example, have developed the epicure charm to summon delicate things that shouldn't be summoned by an accio."_

_"Exactly, Mr. Snape, that will be five points to your house, whatever house that will be, I hope we soon will know that." Professor Flitwick clapped his hands in delight and he himself wondered the same, what would happen with them, with what they called their "house", with any lessons, with – with whatever … _

_"Thank you, Professor." He said. "But, what I don't understand is, what does the Virginia charm has to do with all this?"_

_"Ah, good you asked, Mr. Snape." Professor Flitwick said. "Your father is the resident Potions Master at Hogwarts, isn't he?"_

_"Sure he is." He answered and for a moment he was startled when he could feel pride rising in him at the thought, at the 'sure he is' he had agreed with to Flitwick's question. _

_"Well, then have you ever seen Professor Snape summoning a potion or a potions ingredient?" The professor asked. _

_"Uhm, no, sir." He said, wracking his brain. It wasn't that Severus was his father since long, but he knew the Potions Master for long and no, he had never seen the man summoning anything in his potions classroom. He actually had never seen Snape using any kind of magic in his classroom at all except of a stirring sometimes. _

_Back last year, when his father had overtaken the defence against the dark arts class, he had used magic quite often even. He had lit candles, the fire, he had closed the shutters and he had – well, turned their pages if they were dreaming along, and so he knew that his dad was capable of using magic. But he barely had used magic in the potions classroom. Maybe that had been the reason as to why they had been unable using magic down there at one point or another? Because it's been the potions classroom to begin with? A place that wasn't meant for much magic? Or … but no … if that were so, then Severus wouldn't have been surprised … but he had been, he'd said he didn't know the reason for the magic being vanished, and surely not so quickly. He'd said that maybe, if the dungeons were closed off hermetically, then of course it could happen that the magic was drained off the room too at one point or another but one, it had happened too soon for that and second, the dungeons hadn't been shut off hermetically or they would have run out of air and water too at one point or anther which they hadn't. Only the magic had been drained, most likely the remaining magical strands in the classroom's air allowing a few spells until they had been used up._

_"Any idea as to why not, Mr. Snape?" Professor Flitwick asked and he had to close his eyes for a moment to get back on the track, something he had to do often lately, closing his eyes to get back to the subject. _

_"I don't know, sir." He said, feeling small suddenly._

_"Ah, don't worry, my boy." The charms teacher said and he couldn't help flinching at the word 'boy', remembering his uncle calling him 'boy' and frowning again he forced himself back to listen to the Professor's words. "Few know about the Virginia charm or about the delicacy of some potions concerning magic used around them. Well, it's a charm that has been invented by an American, back in the eleventh century. Back then witches and wizards already have been brewing potions, all around the world, and there had been this city called Virginia. There has been a small group of wizards, of Potions Masters, trying to find new potions for everything, experimenting, they have been scientists. Unfortunately, their brewing had been a bit – let me say, chaotically. They didn't have much space and often got in each other's ways with getting potions or potions ingredients. It had been so much easier to summon them and so they did. As I have mentioned however, there are some potions or potions ingredients that don't do too well with being summoned and so of course they blew up their place every now and then – what not only was a danger to them, but was also a guarantee for them being discovered. So they needed a solution and one day one of them did come up with one, with the Virginia charm. The funny thing about it was, the Virginia charm doesn't have its name from the town where it had been invented, but from the person - it's been the only witch in the group, Virginia Carson, who's been the one to invent it."_

_"And does it work like the others do, Professor?" Hermione asked and he nearly grinned. Of course Hermione would have a question still._

_"Yes, Miss Granger." The teacher said, hopping down from the table. "It is working just like the others, only that the incantation is not 'accio' but 'come potion' and then the name of the potion or potions ingredient. And now, why don't you take out your lunch packets? I know that Professor Snape had you packing sandwiches this morning and it would be a shame if you brought them back to him uneaten."_

_"Professor?" He asked while he took the sandwich from his book bag, smiling at the little man's antics. _

_"Yes, Mr. Snape?" Flitwick asked, getting a sandwich from his own book bag and taking a seat at his table._

_"I've never seen … my father using that charm, sir. Do you know why?" He asked, for a moment wondering how to name Severus in front of another teacher. But then – Severus was his father!_

_"Oh, this spell indeed it isn't used often by Potions Masters that know their field since, let me say the past about fifty years or so, I'm sure your father could give you a much more exact date than I, but sometimes there might be a situation in which it could even safe a Potions Master's life nowadays still, and so I am sure that your father does know about the charm."_

**End flashback**

Well, eating their sandwiches in the charms classroom had been less awkward than taking meals in the great hall, it's been fun actually, they had joked around and they had laughed together with the small and white-haired charms teacher, Professor Flitwick telling them about his heritage being half human and half goblin. After that they had packed their things and had wandered off to the transfiguration classroom, being there early even though they'd had enough time to walk over there slowly.

Turning in bed he sighed heavily before he got up, slowly and silently.

Not so easy had been their way to the great hall for lunch. Professor McGonagall had released them early so that they had enough time to go to the great hall without having to hurry and when they had passed the history of magic classroom Creighton had grabbed him from behind, hissing at him from behind, asking why they were out of class early. Draco and Ron had tried to explain that Professor McGonagall had let them go early to the great hall for lunch so that they had enough time to eat in peace and without haste, but Creighton hadn't released him anyway, had started shaking him.

It's been just that moment when his dad had come up upon them, growling at Creighton to release him this instance and the man had, casting one last dark look at him before growling at Severus and walking past them. He'd seen Creighton pushing past Severus, his shoulder brushing Severus' shoulder roughly and he hadn't understood. He still didn't understand and he still was scared, kind of.

There just had been too many times someone had grabbed him from behind, and there had been too many times someone had threatened him too. He'd just been scared. Well, Severus had led them to the great hall and the matter had been closed but he knew that his dad just waited for one of them to address the topic, he knew his father well enough by now.

Shuddering he slipped out of his door.

It really wasn't that he was hungry, they'd _really_ had enough to eat lately, more than he liked anyway and he often was ill after, even though his dad gave him the stomach soothing potions too, but they didn't help too much against the amount his father made him eating all the time.

So no, it really was not hunger that drove him out of his room, through the parlour and out of their quarters.

If he really were hungry, then he could have gone to their own kitchen, could have taken a tangerine or something else. The kitchen was provided with tangerines because of _him_ after all, because he once had mentioned to his dad how much he loved them and that he'd never had them until his first Christmas at Hogwarts, even if Severus had told him to not eat too much of them now, because his stomach surely would not take the fruit acid too well.

And the ghost wasn't there either, seeing that it was broad daylight.

He'd been to the kitchen on the late evening two days ago to get a glass of water and that ghost had wailed on him, telling him that he had no dealings in the kitchen after nightfall. He'd tried to reason with the ghost, telling him that he hadn't known that they weren't allowed in the kitchen after curfew, but the ghost hadn't listened to him, had threatened to tell Severus and so he hadn't tried again last night. It surely wasn't worth the trouble he could get into with his new father, he wasn't ready to lose his family so soon again.

But it wasn't curfew yet and even the ghost wasn't in this frame of his either now.

But he had to know if he still could go to the school kitchens. He had to know if he still could get food from there, just in case, just in case that something happened, that maybe he might get lost, that maybe they might be locked out of their new home. After all, if they could be locked in, then surely they also could be locked out, couldn't they? And what if Severus got mad at him again? When that ghost spoke to him about his visit to the kitchen after curfew? And what if Severus threw him out of the house then? He wasn't a Gryffindor anymore after all. Where would he go then?

He just needed to be sure that there was another place where he would be able to get something to eat from.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

It was strange, since he was down here, in these new quarters and together with the children – everything had changed, but it hadn't changed for the bad but for the good. He never would have believed it if anyone would have told him before now, but he actually enjoyed it, having the children around and he didn't even feel the need of closing the door to his study while sitting here and grading essays, the door being open and allowing him a view of their 'common room' of their living room.

It showed him that there was life around him, that there were children that might have had died not so long ago but hadn't, children that had in their own way fought death and they were living, were in their own way spreading life even to him, who had never before allowed himself to really live.

Leaning back in his armchair behind the desk he looked up and through the open door into the living room, frowning, watching Harry leaving their quarters, the boy sneaking out like a thief, clearly scared, as if he were to do something forbidden and for a moment he considered calling on him – but then he decided against it.

If he ever was to trust his son, then he best started right now and seeing that it was not curfew yet but daylight, the boy of course could leave their quarters.

So he went back to grading his papers.

It wasn't however easy to concentrate on any grading with this son of his on his mind. Harry had a way of drawing his attention to him, a way of causing him to worry, never mind if there really _was_ reason to worry or not. The child, being too small for his age, far too small, too thin, too scared and too weak, physically at least – even if there was no immediate danger near this child – and from experience he knew that there always was one or another danger near this particular child – well, even without, there always was a reason to worry.

Petunia.

Why had Petunia abused her nephew so badly?

He could understand that she had hated Harry, he knew best how hate worked in a human mind after all, but to abuse someone the way she had? The way she had allowed her husband to? How could she have hated Lily as much as she had, her own sister? Of course Harry had never understood that, had never understood how his aunt and uncle could hate him so much, how they could have hurt him so much while he had been forced to watch them loving his cousin. How could the boy have understood that, while not even _he_ could understand it fully?

**Flashback**

_"If you hate someone so much like Petunia had hated Lily in the end, years and years of hate adding to other years of hate, then in the end you are unable to difference between that person and anything else that has to do with that person." He said, pulling the child closer and he could feel the need for protection, for comfort and for human love radiating off the child, his thumb on the thin neck running up and down his skin. "And you are quite close to the person Petunia hated, seeing that you are Lily's son. I have acted no better when it came to James and my hate of him, that had reflected towards you in later years then and again, I only can say how sorry I am. Your father had changed into a great man over the years, a man that had died for his family, to protect his wife and his son, he had fought in a war, had protected wizards, witches and muggles alike, and he had done great things in later years. He had however not always been like this. I won't tell you why your father and I had our differences, because James Potter is your father still, never mind what. He died protecting you and I expect you to always honour his memory. Even I will do so, because if your father had not done this sacrifice, _then I would not have you as my son now, because maybe you then would have died back then._"_

_"But you wouldn't … you wouldn't know the dif-difference … 'cause you … 'cause you wouldn't know me and … and you hadn't …"_

_"No, I would not know you if you had died back then." He said when the boy stopped and he readjusted the boy so that he was laying more comfortably in his arms. Of course he could understand the boy's line of thinking, it wasn't too hard to imagine that line with the connection he had seen in the child's mind. "And no, I would not have learned to know you like I have during the past month, and so no, I would not know what I had missed – but that is irrelevant because I do know you now, because I do love you more than you can imagine, more than I ever thought I could love someone, anyone, more than my own life and now, now I know what I would have missed if you were not there. And therefore I have to be grateful towards your father. Not to mention that, whatever reason for, with you becoming my son, the hate I have felt towards your father has vanished. I doubt that we ever would become friends if he still were alive, but I don't feel the need to hate him anymore." _

_"You … you've been jealous too … you've been … you've been jealous of my father 'cause … 'cause of me …" The boy joked out between his sobs and for a moment he looked down, startled. Harry couldn't know how much he had loved Lily. Harry couldn't know how much he had hated James for stealing Lily from him, how much he had … Harry couldn't know …_

_And yet, this child had cut it clean through, the truth, where he had never seen it that way, the child had needed but a few minutes to realize just that – he had been jealous, and not only because of Lily, but because of the boy himself too, because Harry had been James' son and not his, a fourteen year old teenager and he saw the truth after only a few moments where he had not seen it for years._

_"You might be not so far from the truth, Harry." He softly said, relaxing back into the pillows on the boy's bed and pulling the child with him. "I have not told you yet, but I loved your mother deeply. We were more than just friends and I always thought, hoped, that one day there could be more than just friendship. When we grew older, into teenagers, there actually was more then. It wasn't really love, not in the way like married people, but there was something between us, something that was about to grow into the love between two people that could live together forever. Until I have made a grave mistake in my anger, until I have called her a mudblood one day, out of anger, out of humiliation, out of despair in the face of being bullied, out of pain maybe even, I don't know, but I have called her that and – it has been the greatest mistake in my life, or at least one of my greatest mistakes. I have driven her away with this word and even though our friendship didn't break completely after that, it never had grown back to what it had been before that. It has been my fault that Lily started looking for other boys and then eventually ended up with, your father of all people. From that moment on the dislike between your father and me had grown into hate, a foolish hate that held no justification for its existence even. Over the years I have watched them, seeing that I have still been in close contact with your mother, and the moment I learned of you, of your mother being pregnant – you don't know how close you maybe are, Harry, because maybe yes, maybe I was jealous, maybe I always have felt that this child of Lily's should be mine, and not James'."_

_"But then … why did you hate me then?" The boy still sobbed. He had become calmer, much calmer, the soft sobs lessening to a mere hiccuping, but he wasn't entirely calm yet._

_"Because the human race tends to hate that what they yearn for but cannot have." He said, taking a deep breath. "I couldn't have Lily, but I couldn't bring myself to hate Lily, I still loved her too much – instead there was her husband whom I could hate, a natural reaction. Later, when you were born, I couldn't have you either, but as you were newly born, having never been loved by me once, I started hating you too because I couldn't have you while I yearned – while I yearned you being mine, a child, a son I could have had with Lily. It had been a foolhardy jealousy and nothing else, and I never can apologize enough for what I have done to you."_

**End flashback**

And it had taken a child to show this to him, to have him seeing reason, a foolish child.

Huffing at his own sentimentality he placed his quill on his desk and stood, taking a deep breath. The children would be awake in about half an hour and so he should get a move on if he wished to be back by then and a second time he huffed.

Children! He thought while leaving their quarters.

They were no children, not really at least, not in the sense of wizarding law. They were teenagers, young adults soon. Rubbish!

Of course they were children still. Fourteen year old children, twelve year old children and even Cameron was one, a sixteen year old child because sixteen was not the age of adulthood, of mature decisions and behaviour. A sixteen year old had not enough life experience to be considered an adult yet and a sixteen year old surely had no experience in patience either.

Getting up to the upper levels of the dungeons he shook his head.

With sixteen they just discovered their bodies, learned about their emotions that ran wild, had to make life changing decisions about their future careers and they discovered love, had to fight with teachers and other students their own age about proving their own strength and other stupid fears. With sixteen they had their entire life before them still – and often no one to help them.

He was just about to make his way up the stairs towards the more lively parts of the castle and towards the library when he heard a scream that had his blood running cold and quickly he turned back into the direction where he had come from. He turned towards the kitchens and towards where the scream had come from instead of the lower parts of the dungeons where they had their quarters, feeling a mixture of horror and anger.

He knew that scream, the child that had screamed.

Harry.

Turning around the corner he stopped mid-step, giving away an angry growl.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

He knew that it had been foolish to come here and get that pear, he could have gotten that exact fruit at their kitchen at home too, but he was happy anyway, because he now knew that there were still the school kitchens and because he knew that still, he could come here for something to eat if it came to the worst.

Still the image of …

A hand grabbing him from behind had him giving away a startled scream for a moment and he clutched the pear he was holding close to his chest or he would have lost it and for a moment he was sure that it was Creighton again. The man had grabbed him just this noon before lunch and it had felt the same, it had felt terrifying.

"Unhand that boy, Filch!" A harsh voice suddenly ordered from behind and – again, just like a few hours ago – Harry couldn't help sighing with relief. Again his father was here to safe his sorry behind.

"Not this time, Professor!" Filch said, smirking and tightening the grip he had on his upper arm so that Harry nearly cried out with the pain. "Caught him red handed stealing food from the school kitchens. He'll pay this time. He'll be in … _chains_ this time."

"As far as I am aware, Filch, it is not yet illegal for the students to carry food with them, nor going into the kitchens for a snack." His father growled darkly and Harry immediately knew that the Professor tried to keep his voice calm. "And now, unhand that boy, right now!"

He levelled his dark eyes at the idiot of caretaker, using his most piercing stare possible until Filch did, even if reluctantly only and even if he did with an accusing, betrayed stare at him, Snape, who up to now had always overtaken the students he had caught for punishments and the Potions Master threw a furious glance at the man upon which the caretaker quickly strolled away, down the corridor and with Miss Norris running close behind him with her tail straight in the air as if to say – _'next time'_.

Looking down at the trembling child, standing there and clutching a pear to his chest as if his life depended on the fruit he took a deep breath to calm his own nerves.

"If it's not me, then it's Filch or another teacher, do you always have to get into trouble, Mr. Snape?" He asked a moment later, when the caretaker was out of ear shot, placing his hand at his son's shoulder.

"I'm trying, Professor, really." The boy said and Snape at once knew – Harry was desperate and more than just a _bit_ scared. There was no 'dad' or 'Severus' not even a 'sir' but a _'Professor'_. The boy had used the term 'dad' more often lately, aside from 'Severus', and he only rarely called him 'sir' anymore, only if he was in class or if he knew that the situation was serious – or that he was in trouble one way or another. But for the boy to call him by his title – 'Professor' – it was one very huge step backwards – and one he didn't like at all.

"I do know that, Harry." He sighed, watching the boy rubbing his upper arm where Filch had held him. "Come, child." He softly added, leading the boy downstairs, and back into their own refuge, into their quarters and into his study. "I would like to have a look at your arm."

"I'm sorry, Professor." The boy said and he took another deep breath to keep himself from addressing the _'professor-issue'_. "I just … I just needed to know … well … just in case …"

"There is no need to apologize." He calmly said while seating the boy on the chair in front of his desk. "I do understand your reasoning and there is no rule that forbids you to visit the school kitchen. Undress your shirt, Harry." He added, turning towards the medicine chest to get a salve that would help with any eventual bruising.

"I'm sorry though." The boy said, softly, as if he felt the need to explain himself. "I just needed to know …"

"You just needed to know if you still could go to the school kitchens for something to eat, just in case, am I correct?" He asked when the boy stopped, turning back towards his son who slipped out of the shirt.

"Yes, Professor." Came the soft answer, nearly a whisper.

"There is no need to fear the worst case scenario, Harry." He just as softly explained. "Because I won't go back on my offer. You have a home now, and this home does have a kitchen. You are allowed to get food from there whenever you want, Harry, you do know that, do you?"

There was no answer, just the boy frowning while he had a look at the bruise that formed over the child's upper arm where Filch had grabbed him roughly and he frowned himself.

"Harry?" He asked, narrowing his eyes at his son, watching the pale face closely. Surely the idiot child _did_ know that he could go to their kitchen whenever he wanted to get something to eat.

"Professor?" The idiot child asked back and he turned his head an inch or two to better concentrate on the brat.

"You _do know_ that, Harry?" He asked again. "That you are allowed in the kitchen of our quarters whenever you want, do you not?"

"Well … yes …?" Was the answer, but it was such an unsure answer, more a question than anything else that he released the boy's arm and stepped in front of his son, kneeling down on one knee.

"Harry?" He asked again. "I would like to hear the truth from you and you do not sound as if you were so sure about being allowed in our kitchen to get food whenever you want."

"Well … it's just …" The boy started but then averted his eyes.

"It's just what?" He asked, suddenly sure of the answer.

"You know what's blue, small and loves pebbles?" Harry then asked, looking up at him with his large green eyes and a smile on his pale face, a smile that was a smile clearly forced out and he took a deep breath.

"I do doubt that right now is the time for any joke about the stone eater." He seriously said. "I rather would like to hear your answer to my question, Harry, and no diversion. I do wish to get answers to anything I ask and I do wish to get true answers. Not to mention that if you are unsure about _anything_ concerning our lives, then you should ask about it. And now I am far more interested in your answer than in the stone eater."

"Alright." The boy sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "I'm sorry. It's just … well … I've been to the kitchen on Monday night, after curfew … I didn't mean to sneak around, really, Professor … I just wanted to get a glass of water, I swear … really …"

"Harry." He calmly said when the child's breathing started to get irregular with clear fear, placing his hand atop the child's knee in a calming manner. The boy anyway flinched upon the touch. "Calm down, you are not in trouble, neither for getting a glass of water nor for getting something to eat, even if it is past curfew. This is your _home_, child, you are allowed to visit the kitchen if you are hungry, even if it is in the middle of the night."

"But … but the ghost … he said … the ghost said I had no dealings in the kitchen after nightfall." The boy softly said and he nearly seethed with anger. "And he'd threatened to tell you and … and I didn't want to lose you … and … and I'm sorry … I didn't mean to …"

"Stop." He softly said, increasing the pressure of his hand on the boy's knee. "I know that you didn't mean to do anything wrong – and you didn't do either. You did absolutely nothing wrong, child. You are allowed to go to the kitchen never mind the day- or night-time. You are allowed to have a snack whenever you want, there is no need for you to go hungry ever again, child, not while you are living under my roof and under my protection. And concerning this ghost, I will have a clear word with him – or he will be taken off his nail. I'll cut his canvas off its frame if necessary. Do you understand this?"

"Yes, sir." Came Harry's answer, the boy sounding very relieved, _looking_ very relieved too.

"Good – and now, what is it, that is blue, small and loves pebbles?" He asked, just to get the strain off the situation even if he already knew the answer to this yet another silly question.

"What?" The boy asked, confused, looking up at him as if he, Snape, had lost his mind and he lifted his eyebrow.

"That blue and small thing of yours that loves pebbles, what is it?" He asked. "That thing with which you wanted to divert me earlier."

"Oh …" The boy made, blinking up at him. "Uhm … well … it's the little brother from the big, blue stone eater."

"I should have known." He sighed, shaking his head. "Of course it would be the little brother from the big, blue stone eater."

break ... ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ... line

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued<strong>

**Next time in A few days more**

_________dunno yet ... :D ..._________

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too, thank you …

**House cup: **

At the present time it looks like this:

708 - Gryffindor - Head of House: Catlady

701 - Slytherin - Head of House: evil minded

576 - Ravenclaw - Head of House: Arithmancy Master

340 - Hufflepuff - Head of House: still a free post


	12. nocturnus arensentia muscipulaa

**Title:**

A few days more

Sequel to twenty-one days

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Fourth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

"A few days more" is the sequel to "Twenty-one days" – read and review this first or you wouldn't understand all that happens in this story.

The fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindors have survived their imprisonment in the potions classroom situated in the dungeons. How will they go on in all-day life after their survival? How will they manage to reintegrate into the castle's routine and their classes? How will they be able to go back to life at all? Watch how those who survived fight for their lives and for their peace, for their place in the community at Hogwarts.

**Disclaimer: **

Did you see Severus alive at the end of _'The deathly hallows'_? no?

Do you think I would have had him died if I had written those books? no?

Then you know that _'Harry Potter'_ does not belong to me … nor does Severus … regrettably … he belongs to J. K. Rowling …

But Hereweald Hrothgar does …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Warning:**

Story contains references to child abuse.

Child-abuse is a really serious thing, it is an evil thing and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help without being helped, and closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist, is no solution …

I only say - remind yourself of your feelings, of your sympathy, and of your understanding … and handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once being abused … with understanding and with help …

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me - I am …

* * *

><p>break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line<p>

**Previously in A few days more**

_"Stop." He softly said, increasing the pressure of his hand on the boy's knee. "I know that you didn't mean to do anything wrong – and you didn't do either. You did absolutely nothing wrong, child. You are allowed to go to the kitchen never mind the day- or night time. You are allowed to have a snack whenever you want, there is no need for you to go hungry ever again, child, not while you are living under my roof and under my protection. And concerning this ghost, I will have a clear word with him – or he will be taken off his nail. I'll cut his canvas off its frame if necessary. Do you understand this?"_

_"Yes, sir." Came Harry's answer, the boy sounding very relieved, looking very relieved too. _

_"Now, what is it, that is blue, small and loves pebbles?" He asked, just to get the strain off the situation even though he already knew the answer to this yet another silly question. _

_"What?" The boy asked, confused, looking up at him as if he, Snape, had lost his mind and he lifted his eyebrow._

_"That blue and small thing of yours that loves pebbles, what is it?" He asked. "That thing with which you wanted to divert me earlier."_

_"Oh …" The boy made, blinking up at him. "Uhm … well … it's the little brother from the big, blue stone eater."_

_"I should have known." He sighed. shaking his head. "Of course it would be the little brother from the big, blue stone eater."_

**A few days more**

**Chapter twelve **

**Day eleven – third of October – Thursday **

**Nocturnus arensentia muscipulaa**

It was a strange thing, with his father.

He'd never had someone who had cared what he did do or what he did not do. He'd never had someone who had cared if he did something dangerous or if he did something that might be unhealthy. He'd never even had someone who had told him what _would be_ healthy or not to begin with.

Of course he wasn't stupid and so of course he did use his common sense to find out what could be deadly, what could be dangerous, or what could be otherwise unhealthy – but that rarely did help him. It definitely had never helped him with the Dursleys and it rarely had helped him at Hogwarts either, even if out of different reasons. The Dursleys simply had kept him unhealthy because they had needed him as their slave and punching bag and at Hogwarts there simply had no one ever cared – until Severus had started to care, that was – while at the same time they expected him to do great things – again, until Severus had become his father, had become the first one seeing him as the child he was. Maybe that was the reason as to why he didn't really mind the Potions Master calling him a _"foolish child"_, because for once in his life he was allowed to be a child.

The problem was, the man cared so much that he, Harry, didn't know how to deal with it sometimes.

You just had to take the PE-lessons, and they were every day, and then you knew the problem.

He, Harry, he was a seeker since three years now, since he was eleven, since his very first beginning at Hogwarts, since he had barely known everything about the wizarding world, since he had touched a broom for riding on it for the first time, instead of cleaning the Dursleys' house with it – but Severus kept him from a broom as far as possible and he was sure that the Potions Master would rather kill him than allowing him on a broom anytime soon – meaning for the next five hundred years or so, because for his father a broom seemed to be something evil and deathly dangerous that should be banned from the wizarding world like the flying carpets had been about hundred years ago.

But he was allowed to balance on the high beams in the gym.

Alright, he only was allowed on them because there were mats beneath them, and charmed mats at that, but he _was_ allowed.

**Flashback**

_"Dad?" He softly asked, approaching the man who was sitting at a bench in the gym. _

_"Yes, Harry?" Severus asked back, moving over a bit and he sat down beside his father. _

_"I wondered … well, I wondered why I am allowed to balance on the high beams here, but not to fly on a broom?" He asked, carefully, watching the man leaning back against the wall._

_"Because if you fall off them, you can't hurt yourself as the mats below are charmed." His father answered, calmly. _

_"But I wouldn't fall off a broom." He pouted. "I've never fell off a broom."_

_"You did." His father said, his eyebrow raised and he groaned. Of course the man would remember that. "Last year."_

_"That's not fair." He said. "It's not been my fault. It's been the dementors' fault."_

_"Maybe." His father said. "But you fell. And remember the cursed broom in your first year."_

_"That's not been my fault either." He sighed, not understanding._

_"No, it has not been." Severus admitted. _

_"So, I've never fallen off a broom by myself, without an outward force." He said, smirking at his father. Surely the man's cunning was rubbing off on him. _

_"That might be because so far you've had more luck than brains." His father huffed at him. "But that doesn't change anything. You are too light at the moment and you are not back to your full strength yet, Harry, and until you are – you won't sit on a broom and that is final. One gust of wind and you would fall off, child, hurting yourself." _

_"No one has ever cared if I get hurt before." He growled darkly. _

_"I would not have kept your backside safe for the past three years if I had not cared." The man seriously said, his dark eyes piercing him._

_"Sorry, sir." He said, softly. "I didn't mean it that way."_

_"I know what you meant and you are right, Harry." The man said, seriously but leaning his arm over his shoulder and pulling him close, until he was resting with his shoulder against the man's chest. "No one so far has cared about your general health and safety and even I, I only have tried to keep you alive in the face of danger but nothing more. That will change from now on, child. You are the child here and I am the adult, you will have to trust me that I mean well and that I do what is best for you, child."_

_Leaning against his father's chest he took a deep breath before releasing it, knowing that yes, his dad was right. And as much as he would like it, having his independence back, he liked this here more, having someone who finally cared, having someone who finally took care of him, who was there to – to do anything, who just was there for him, for him!_

_"But couldn't you charm a broom too?" He hopefully asked. "So that maybe I couldn't fall off?"_

_"And cheat on the game?" Severus smirked down on him. "I think not."_

**End flashback**

"Harry?" The man he had been thinking about asked, getting him out of his thoughts.

"Yes, dad?" He asked, looking up from his breakfast.

"I got word from St. Mungo's, Harry." His father said. "Your examination is on Saturday afternoon at three."

"My examination?" He asked, frowning. His dad hadn't told him of any more examinations so far.

"Your examination." Severus confirmed, looking at the child calmly, knowing that this surely wouldn't go down smoothly and without a fight.

"What examination?" The boy asked and he sighed. "I've had one and you've never said something about a second one before, only that I had to visit therapy on Saturday afternoons together with Theodore, Draco and Adrian."

"True." He sighed. "But I've asked St. Mungo's for a general disorder examination for you anyway and they have scheduled this one for Saturday afternoon."

"A general disorder examination?" The boy asked in a mixture of being upset and confused. "What's that? And do the others have that thing too?"

"No, they have not, Harry." He said. "I had them scheduling one for you simply because I have noticed one or another thing I would like to have clarified."

"Oh." The boy made, looking thoughtfully for a moment before inclining his head and then getting off the table, departing for his room, and he took another deep breath. Well, that had – in one way – gone better than he had thought, but he didn't like the way the boy had accepted this scheduled examination without a real fight. Nor did he like the fact that the boy had left the table despite their agreement on waiting until all of them had finished their meals.

He didn't want to call the boy back anyway, knowing that the boy needed some time for himself to get clear with this new information. Again he was an exception, again there was something he had to do that others didn't have to do, and he only could imagine how the boy must feel with this.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"I don't really understand how simple signs can have any deeper meaning." Harry groaned, frustrated. "It isn't that the alphabet has a special meaning after all, or numbers. They're just needed for calculation – or for writing."

"Oh, but numbers _do_ have a meaning, Mr. Snape." Professor Babbling said. "Just take the number one, it reflects new beginning and purity. The symbolic meaning of the number one is further clarified when we understand that this number represents both kinds of action – physical and mental action. The number two stands for kindness, balance, and tact, duality and it reflects a quiet power of judgement and the need for planning. The number two beckons us to choose. The spiritual meaning of the number two also deals with exchanges made with others, both in harmony and rivalry – or communication."

"And the alphabet?" He asked, frowning, He hadn't known that numbers could stand for one thing or another – or for so many things at all.

"Well, take the letter A." Professor Babbling said, smiling. "It is the numerical equivalent of the number one and the first letter of both the Hebrew and Roman alphabets as well as the first vowel. And so, as the alpha of the alphabet, it leads the way with a great deal of confidence and authority. If it is the first letter in a name, the bearer tends to be alert, active and adventurous – or arrogant, just for example, and the letter B is the numerical equivalent of the number two and represents duality, the energy bouncing between two opposites and emotionally triggered reactions bursting forth from balanced containment. In the Hebrew alphabet B means 'house' – a box, a home base, with boundaries for emotionally bounded people and things. A bearer of a name that starts with the letter B might be beautiful, benevolent and might enjoy bonding activities while they also could be brutal, brash or a bully. They tend to be bold and brave in battle."

"What's the letter H meaning?" Draco asked, smirking at him and Harry groaned.

"Well, H is the numerical equivalent of the number eight and represents creativity and power." Professor Babbling answered, smiling at their antics, at Draco's smirk and his groaning. "While the number eight repersents endlessness, the letter H has a great deal of business skills and if it is the first consonant of a name, the bearer is likely to be successful in business. Negatively it can be self-absorbed and selfish."

"But I'm not self-absorbed and selfish, am I?" He said, frowning, unable to keep the worry out of his voice.

"Of course not, Mr. Snape." Professor Babbling said. "I am just trying to explain the meaning of numbers, letters and signs to you, seeing that you are lacking an entire year of this subject and therefore we have to start at the beginning. It is a _possible_ meaning, nothing that _'is'_ but something that _'could be'._ Every letter and every number has a good meaning and a bad meaning, like a person can be good or bad. I assume that you have learned from Professor Snape that magic cannot be good or bad, but that it is the wielder that is good or bad. And the same it is with the letter in a name. Not the name is good or bad, but the bearer and if the bearer would be named Adam or Carlson or Dennis or any other name, he still would be good – or bad."

"But, if that all could be, or could not be, then the meaning of the runes isn't certain either?" He asked, understanding what Professor Babbling meant but not sure if he could believe it.

"Exactly." The woman said. "It has no meaning at all – for muggles. Like brewing a potion has no meaning for muggles, or a number – except of superstition. But how did superstition arise in the first place?" Professor Babbling asked, walking along the aisle in the middle of the classroom that just a few months ago would have divided Gryffindor and Slytherin but was now nothing but an aisle. "It arose because of the wizarding world dying." The teacher answered her own question. "In old times, a few thousands of years ago, before witches and wizards had been chased down by muggles, they were openly living amongst each other and the muggles always had gone to the _'shamans'_ to ask for their aid or their approval, their blessing, because they knew that – they knew best. And they learned from them too. If the 'shaman' threw his runes, then they learned that for example the rune Fehu stood for possession, income and luck – but they never learned that it was possession _won or earned_, that it was income _earned_ and only a _bit_ of luck. They never knew that it was a rune from Freya's aett, that it stands for domestic cattle and wealth and that its letter is F – its number therefore six. They realized that if it fell the wrong way round, then it meant loss of personal property, esteem or something that put in effort to keep but they never realized that it also could be some sort of personal failure also. You see – muggles learned a lot from the wizards and witches around them, but they never understood that what they learned – and people tend to fear that what they don't understand and they destroy that, what they fear. Much knowledge got lost over the centuries on the muggle side, but there are a few things they still remember. But they don't understand it, and so they fear it. They can't destroy that knowledge of course, as it is in their minds – and so they are trying to ignore it, what is not possible if they are confronted with – for example the number thirteen, or the letter S, or a rune they don't understand. A black cat coming from their left side, if they break a mirror … there are a lot of examples muggles don't understand even if it is in their minds, handed down over generations. But those things do have a magical meaning. You need two candles if you start a sexual bond, two candles for balance between the witch and the wizard and you need seven candles if you change this simple sexual bond into a deeper familial bond the day your children are born. You need one candle but seven familial thoughts if you start a parent-child bonding and you need seven counter-clockwise stirs if you brew an adoption potion like your father has done, Mr. Snape, while you need the seventh rune for child protection. You see, anything to do with children needs the number seven, or the letter G. In other words – for us wizards letters, numbers or runes _do_ have a meaning, but that is not what rules our lives, Mr. Snape."

"But, if it is not certain – for muggles, but for wizards, then why would it not rule our lives?" He asked, confused. On one hand Professor Babbling said that it had no meaning at all, but on the other hand she said it was important. He didn't really understand and his head was swimming.

"Well, it's because it does have a meaning for us wizards, but it is nothing we really use anymore." The teacher said. "In old times all witches and wizards knew about the runes, but this knowledge got lost over the years because they thought that a good spell is more important than a rune. Over the years there were spells invented for protection, so why would they need a rune? It is nothing we depend on anymore, but it still exists and it still is very powerful if used wisely. For example, a muggle might find a root that is shaped after Sowilo and they think it's a pretty root. They take it and they keep it, and they might nail it to their wall or they might put it on a shelf without knowing that it stands for success, goals achieved and honour, for health. Of course they might be a bit successful, of course the root might help them to achieve better health – but they never would achieve as much as a knowing wizard, because a knowing wizard would use the root with wisdom, with the knowledge that stood behind it."

"Merlin, that sounds very complicated." He groaned, laying his arms atop the table and laying his head over his arms, closing his eyes for a moment. Of course he understood what the professor wanted to tell him, and of course it all sounded interesting, but it also sounded complicated and he already knew that he would have to do a lot of learning, not only about the runes but numbers and letters and how to use all of them together, how to calculate with them and how to – _play _with them, as his father had said.

"Why don't you all just take a rest." Professor Babbling suggested. "It's lunch break in ten minutes anyway and you all could use this time to rest a bit until then."

Sighing he closed his eyes for a moment.

Why did all the teachers have to worry? He didn't like it, not a bit! He'd never had someone who'd been worried over him and he felt enclosed, trapped, as if all those people kept him from breathing. Of course it was nice to have someone who cared about him for once, like Severus, but one person surely was enough, wasn't it? And yes, of course it was better than Filch or Professor Creighton, or Professor Vector. He hadn't been there at her class, but Draco and the others had told him about what had happened and Ron getting in detention because he had stuck up to the others. It had been unfair.

So of course he was glad that not all the teachers were like this, and of course he was glad that Severus wasn't unfair anymore, that Severus cared about him and that he even … liked … him, but sometimes he thought that it was too much – he simply wasn't used to this and it wasn't easy to adapt to the new changes now – even though it _did_ feel nice.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"I want all of you to take a seat." He softly said when the children entered the PE room this evening.

The day had gone exceptionally well.

Filius seemed to get along very well with this class, being able to have them resting and eating and he was glad that he had scheduled charms for their first lessons in the morning – and at the beginning of the week. Bathsheba too seemed able to keep them not only interested but to have them resting too before sending them to lunch. And Filch as well as Creighton had kept their hands away from them too, especially from his son.

"Great, no exercises today." Gregory and Vincent whooped while doing a dance that was worth any physical exercise he could have come up with before heading to the mats he had put up in the PE room in a circle earlier.

He had watched them closely during the past few days and he had of course noticed that they not only had to rebuild muscle mass but that they had to work on movement and on reflexes too. He'd had them doing stretching exercises yesterday and he would work on reflexes with them tonight.

Frowning he watched them sitting down at the mats with little fuss, some of the children clearly not understanding why he would have put up the mats in a circle in the PE room, but he waited until they all had a seat before he himself took the last remaining seat beside Theodore and then summoned a box.

Wordlessly he took a small green ball from the box and narrowing his eyes for a moment he threw it at Harry – who was startled enough to have trouble with catching the ball, fumbling with the soft green thing for a moment before he had it safely in his hands. The boy then looked up at him, startled, clearly not understanding and clearly not knowing what to do with the small green ball now.

"Just throw it to anyone in the circle, Harry." He gently said, worried about the fact that Harry – despite not being prepared – _did_ have such trouble catching the ball. The boy was a seeker after all, and one of the best seekers Hogwarts had ever seen, he had to admit that. He knew very well that Slytherin only had lost the Quidditch cup because of Harry and that any game they had won had been due to luck and nothing else since Harry was on the Gryffindor team, even though he would never admit that in the face of one Minerva McGonagall.

Unsurely Harry did throw the small ball, to Draco, who looked questioningly at him, Severus, too and he gave an encouraging nod towards this boy as well, indicating that he should just throw it at anyone in the circle.

And Draco did, threw the ball to Theodore.

Inwardly smirking he took another ball, a blue one this time and threw it to Adrian who was startled too because he had watched the green ball flying through the room. The boy actually lost the grip but quickly leaned forwards on his mat, laughing, and picked the ball up.

"Hey look, it's the small blue stone eater." The boy called out, stopping all action in the room for a moment while the others looked and then laughed too. A moment later Adrian threw the ball to Emma while at the same time Hermione threw the green ball to Ron.

He took a red ball from the box and threw it at Cameron.

Ten minutes later there were five balls flying through the room, causing children to try and catch them in the chaos while they were unable to keep an eye on all the balls.

It had been Harry who had been the first one throwing a ball back at him and for a moment the child had been startled enough about his own daring that he had become frozen on his mat, not able to move fast enough the moment he had thrown the ball back at the boy and the offending red thing had landed behind Harry on the floor while the boy still blinked at him in shock before he finally smiled and hurried to get up and get the ball.

They clearly all had fun with the game while at the same time they had to move, they had to use their reflexes and they had to concentrate on several balls flying through the room at the same time.

"Nooo …" Came a scream from Harry just before four balls were thrown at him simultaneously, the boy – apparently knowing that he wouldn't be able to catch them all – throwing his arms up in defence. "You … just wait …" Harry then called out a moment later, hurrying to pick up all the balls he had missed, and he even threw himself at the floor towards the last of them when Adrian had gotten off his chair too, trying to pick one up for himself, both boys laughing with the fun of the game.

"Oh, oh …" Adrian made a moment later, the boy backing away from Harry who stood there, with a smirk on his face and four balls in his hands.

"Oh, oh …" Neville too made. "Harry has four balls!"

Harry meanwhile stood there, smirking, holding three balls to his chest while he played with the fourth, the blue one, watching them with narrowed eyes and for a moment he wondered where the fifth ball was as the game had stopped completely.

"Know what is big, blue and gnaws at bones?" The boy calmly asked, still playing with the small blue ball in his right hand.

"That ball you're playing with." Draco called out, clearly ready for being attacked by Harry.

"The big blue stone eater who changed its eating habits – again, you've had this one already." Theodore said.

"Nope." Harry answered, still smirking, still playing with the ball in his right while keeping the other three in his left hand, pressed against his chest and he dared getting his eyes off the boy for a moment to look at the others, trying to find out where that blasted fifth ball could be. "It's the big, blue stone eater with tooth ache, he can't gnaw at stone."

A moment later the boy threw the ball at Draco, the next one at Theodore, one at Ronald and the last one at Adrian, giving the younger boy enough time to prepare and he chuckled. He had known that Harry would throw them all at once and he had known that he would throw them a bit harder than they had been flying before.

Another moment later something hit his shoulder and he realized that Harry had kept the fifth ball all the time – and was now sitting on the floor with laugher.

"You just wait, you little imp." He growled, summoning the ball that had fallen to the floor and then throwing it back at the boy, just as hard, glad that he had cast a softening charm on the balls earlier so that no one would be hurt by them even if the game went out of hands a bit – what it quite did.

The balls often fell to the floor and the children had to get off the mats to pick them back up. Some of them had simply kept sitting in the middle of the circle, but he had told them to sit back down on the mats. He wanted them doing those extra exercises, not to mention that it was easier to catch a ball while sitting in the middle of the circle than while sitting on the mats.

Most of them didn't have too much trouble with that, but he noticed that Harry's movements, even though confidently, were still very slow and the boy's arms still were tiring too quickly for his liking. Draco too was not back to his previous strength and Theodore didn't fare any better than Harry, the boy already being tired even though the game didn't even last half an hour now and with twenty-one persons and five balls they had enough rest between movements.

Hermione was able to catch the balls, even though PE surely was not a subject she did like nor exceed in, and she even seemed to have some fun with the game and the same went for Neville, the boy missing a lot of balls but he had fun anyway.

It was different with Emma.

The girl clearly still didn't feel well in this room here and she barely was able to catch any ball, soon giving up and he had to try his hardest to keep her in the game at all, encouraging her over and over again and hoping that Hermione would be able to somehow pull the other girl with her, like she always did these days.

Who had him surprised was Cameron. The sixteen year old boy did laugh and joke around with the younger children as if he were twelve himself, the boy's face as happy as the faces of all the other children and suddenly he noticed how good it felt, seeing their happy faces, hearing their laugher and receiving their smiles. It felt different from what he knew about teaching from his past and growling he schooled his own face back to his usual blank mask when he noticed that he himself started smiling like a goofy.

Merlin, what did these children do with him? Did they _try_ to destroy his reputation?

He would have to work hard on this or he would lose his touch with the other students, really!

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Finally!

This bloody ghost did have a mind of his own. He hadn't appeared last night at all and the night before he'd been there at eight in the evening already while on Monday it had been after ten o'clock. Didn't ghosts have a schedule like any normal people too? Bloody blasted thing!

"A word." He growled, placing the book he had been reading while he had waited for the ghost to appear at the table.

"Divination." The idiot ghost answered, giggling like an idiot.

"You will not keep my students from going to the kitchen for food, never mind the day- or night-time." He hissed at the idiot thing angrily, getting off the armchair he'd been sitting in and approaching the picture.

"That's more than one word." The ghost said, looking disappointed.

"This is not a game." He growled darkly. "I mean it. If you keep my children from going to this kitchen, then I'll take you off your nail."

"Oh, but you won't be able to, because the castle put me here." The ghost smirked at him.

"I see." He smirked back at the ghost. "But even the castle won't be able to keep me from cutting you off your frame."

"You wouldn't do that!" The ghost now said, seriously.

"Try me." He still smirked. "Keep one of my children from going for food again and I'll do it, without magic, just with a knife, slowly and with due satisfaction."

Without another word he turned to leave. The ghost had paled at his last words and he knew that he understood, maybe his reputation about being a nasty and ruthless man had even reached the world of the ghosts, maybe this one here did know some of the Death Eaters who could tell stories even, and maybe this idiot ghost had not seen him smiling goofily in the gym earlier.

"Snape." The ghost called him back and for a moment he even considered ignoring the bloody thing, but then he turned back to the picture hanging beside the kitchen.

"What?" He asked, keeping his voice impatient and annoyed enough to make his point.

"If your son had entered the kitchen on Monday night he would have disturbed the breeding of your blazon animal." The ghost seriously said, not a hint of his previous smirking or laughing on the pale face.

"What do you mean – the breeding of our blazon animal?" He asked, frowning. "The blazon is a crest, an emblem."

"Not yours." The ghost answered. "You didn't wonder about all the colours here being brown and black with a hint of blue, Snape?"

"They are house colours, I already supposed so." He answered. "What's it with them?"

"What animal is brown and black while having clear blue eyes?" The ghost asked again and again he frowned, thinking.

There were a lot of brown and black animals and some of them even had blue eyes – and he was not in the mood for playing riddles. Tomorrow there would be this blasted press conference every available – and not available – reporter in England seemed to be dying for. He had tried to keep this report from them completely but Albus had suggested they partake in at least one official press conference so that the reporters would stop harassing the school.

They of course wouldn't be able entering Hogwarts without permission from either the headmaster or one of the heads of houses and none of them would invite them into the school without agreement of him, Snape. But if they kept the press in the dark, then the reporters only would search for a way to harass the children outside of school, while they were in Hogsmeade for example and that was the last thing he wished for them. In a press conference he at least was present and could keep things from getting out of hands.

Not to mention that tomorrow would be a very hard day on the children, with first Moody and then Creighton torturing his students and he even had considered keeping them from those two classes for the time being until they were better a bit. But well, again Albus had insisted that they visit the classes and even though he didn't like it, he had to admit that the headmaster was correct, the children had to visit classes and he only could do his best to help them through any bullying coming from any teacher.

"You just tell me this riddle of yours or I'll cut you off your frame right now." He growled. "I'm not in the mood for games, these children will have enough to go through in foreseeable time without a ghost harassing them."

"I do not harass them." The ghost now growled back. "I am protecting them like you do you. If your son – or any other male – had entered the kitchen on Monday night, then he would not have survived. The animal of your house is a nocturnus arensentia muscipulaa and the animal has been born Monday night, its mother holding vigil. She would have killed any male entering and I have kept vigil over your children so that none of them entered during the birth."

"A desert night cat!" He gasped, for a moment unable to keep his cool mask, but then he turned hastily and pushed the door open, entering the kitchen. He hadn't been there during any night since they were down here nor had anyone ever told them about their animal mascot for the new house.

And there it sat, a cat, dark brown with a black back and neck and eyes so large and blue it was startling. A baby cat only but already as large as a young lion soon being able to start hunting would be, and immediately he knew that this animal wasn't here for only a year or two until they had recovered and were ready to go back to their houses but that this animal would take a hundred of years to grow into an adult desert night cat, that this animal would be the animal of their house for the time Hogwarts existed.

Merlin!

Hogwarts had _indeed_ created a complete new house, a _truly and completely new house_, not temporarily but permanently, a fifth house and its animal – the only living house animal known since the days of the founders – was a hunter, a deathly predator if full-grown.

Leaning with his hands onto the kitchen table he closed his eyes for a moment, letting his head hang in acceptance.

Welcome to Huntingale.

And suddenly he knew the reason as to why this animal was here. A hunter, a predator – no child in this house would ever go hungry as long as this animal was here to hunt. Giving in to the feeling of the air around him, to the softness of the castle, to the stillness of the night and to the deepness of the animal watching him he suddenly knew what he had to do.

Never before in a thousands of years had a head of house had to do this because never before in a thousands of years had a head of house had a living animal as their house mascot. The last known heads of houses to do such a thing had been Salazar Slytherin who'd been keeping a basilisk, Godric Gryffindor who'd kept a lion, Rowena Ravenclaw who'd had an eagle and finally Helga Hufflepuff who'd held a badger her animal.

And now Severus Snape to bond with a desert night cat.

Taking a deep breath he stood straight, extending his hand invitingly to the cat – a moment later he had a baby cat running towards him, awkwardly and on unsure paws but steadily, just to jump at him, its claws sinking into the skin of his hand in the attempt to climb him and he hissed at the pain for a moment before he lifted the animals up and into his arms.

He took the small head into his free hand, lifting the small brown head and holding it so he could have a closer look.

The black line that ran over the animal's brown fur around and over its neck went up to the cat's head to end just between the big, blue, baby eyes, above the small black nose twitching.

The young animal lifted its front paws as if taking a hold at his hand, trying to turn its head away and he tightened his grip a bit, careful to not hurt the baby cat, ignoring the little thing gnawing at his fingers.

The blue eyes looked clear and awake, the little teeth definitely were healthy too, considering the gnawing on his fingers and the animal's movements were – even though awkward – strong and healthy too.

Locking his eyes with the cat's eyes he started the bonding, allowing his emotions to overtake him for once, allowing the animal to see him, to see his soul and his heart, his magical core and his entire being while at the same time he was allowed the same.

It took them only a few seconds, a minute at the best to bond, but he immediately knew that it was a bond until one of them died.

"Well, then let us wake the children, Diagon." He whispered, running his hand over the cat's fur while he left the kitchen. "They will have to know you and you will have to know them."

"Don't you think that it's too late in the night for that?" The blasted ghost asked. "They do need their sleep."

"Yes, they do." He admitted, turning towards the ghost and he suddenly knew that there was no need to cut him off his frame. This ghost only was there to keep them safe as well as this baby cat, he just didn't like the way he was doing this and he would have to make this clear. "But they also need to bond with this animal, and soon. I understand that you couldn't tell me, but you will have to trust me now. I have bonded with this cat, I have named her and I am the head of this house, a permanent house and you will have to respect this and my decisions made."

"As you wish, Professor Snape." The ghost said, smirking, bowing his head. "The bonding between this animal and your children should happen at night anyway."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Dad?" Harry asked, sill half asleep.

He had put the cat down before he had gone off to wake the students. He had remained standing in the doorway to Harry's room for a moment, watching the boy in his sleep that had been peaceful for once, immediately knowing that there wouldn't be any nightmares in foreseeable future, knowing that the night watcher would watch over Harry as well as over the others, that the nocturnal animal would hold vigil, would keep them safe during the night, even from nightmares.

A fitting animal for their house indeed and for a moment, surrounded by powers bigger than him, he had bowed his head in deep humility towards the animal, the children, the castle and his own new position.

"Come here, child." He softly said, waving the boy over with his hand while sitting down at the sofa.

He had woken them all, had told them to just grab their blankets and to come to the parlour, watching the animal sniffing around, the little thing being out of the kitchen for the first time, watching the children coming from their rooms one by one, sleepily and clearly only half awake.

"I wouldn't have woken you all if it weren't important." He gently said while pulling his son on his lap, the boy leaning with his shoulder and head against his chest and shoulder. "I take it you all have realized that Hogwarts has created a new house for us." He then started to explain. "Magic is a strange thing and sometimes we know what we have to do or what is happening without any doubt. Such a thing happened tonight. This house, the house of Huntingale, will be a permanent house within the castle of Hogwarts, a small fifth house, reserved for a handful of students in need only, but it will last for another thousands of years and like it had happened at the time of the founders, we got an animal. Not a crest, not a picture on a piece of metal but a real and living animal."

The cat, feeling his call, came over from one of the corners it had been examining and a moment later he had a startled Harry sitting on his lap, looking unsurely, scared even when the animal lifted its paw to place it on the boy's leg, coming closer and starting to gnaw at the child's fingers, carefully, playfully, as if it knew that it easily could hurt the fragile child.

"You do not have to fear her, Harry, none of you have, because she will protect you." He said, running his hand over the animal's face to stop it from gnawing Harry's fingers. "This is a desert night cat, a nocturnus arensentia muscipulaa, and the castle seemed seeing it fit to present us with this particular animal. She will go hunting and so as long as she lives, no one will go hungry ever as she will provide us with food if necessary. She also is a nocturnal animal and she will watch over your sleep, over your dreams and over your weaknesses during night. She is the animal of a founder, of a house, and you, as the first children living here in this house, you will need to bond with her too."

"She's beautiful." Harry whispered, having calmed down and now running his bony fingers through the soft baby-fur.

"That she is." He answered. "And none of you have to fear her for she is here because of you. She was born on the night from Monday to Tuesday and that has been the reason this blasted ghost over there has kept you from entering the kitchen, Harry. Had any male entered the kitchen on Monday night, the mother of this creature would have killed him. This bloody ghost here seems to be here for your protection as well as for the protection of this animal and you should follow his instructions. I just don't like his way of actions. Do you hear, Mr. Nameless? You better start explaining the children why they have to do things or why they can't do things and if you feel unable to explain them then you better call for me. _And_ you better start telling me your name soon too, you idiot piece of art-work." He growled.

"Dad?" Harry asked, looking up at him and he could feel the boy's green eyes on him unsurely.

"Yes, Harry?" He asked, looking down at the child.

"If this cat is the cat of a founder, does this mean that … the basilisk … in the chamber of secrets, does this mean that the basilisk had been the animal of a funder too? Of Salazar Slytherin? Your house?"

"Yes, Harry." He sighed, knowing the child's line of thinking. "But the basilisk is not to compare with this animal here. The basilisk had been the bonded animal of Salazar Slytherin a thousand of years ago and back then the basilisk might have been there for the protection of the snakes, of the Slytherins too, but with the death of Salazar Slytherin the animal was alone, without a Master, alone, and nine hundred years are a long time. The animal must have gone crazy even though it had been in a kind of hibernation for a long time. The one Master who awoke him then had been the Dark Lord and of course the basilisk, after nine hundred years of loneliness, influenceable and weak, of course he went dark, grateful to his new Master, doing his biddings. You did not kill an innocent animal but a predator that would have killed half the school, you included, Harry. You did what you had to do and even though it shouldn't have happened in the first place, it was not your fault. We all, the adults, we should have made sure that it didn't happen. If anyone is at fault for the animal's death, then are we and surely not you. Do you understand?"

"But why is this the house of Huntingale, uncle Severus?" Draco asked. "If you are the fifth founder, and from what I understand – you are, then this should be the house of Snape, shouldn't it?"

"And what would this do to all of you?" He asked, sighing, watching the cat approaching child for child, watching them bonding, watching the children falling asleep as soon as they had finished the bonding. "My name holds a bad reputation and this only would come down towards you. I might be a – kind of – founder, but that doesn't mean anything now, thousands of years after Hogwarts' foundation. The old times are long gone, Draco, and I am only a latecomer, not one of the original founders. The castle has agreed to naming the house Huntingale instead of Snape and that does make it valid."

break ... ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ... line

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued<strong>

**Next time in A few days more**

__________To make a potion? __________

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too, thank you …

**House cup: **

At the present time it looks like this:

708 - Gryffindor - Head of House: Catlady

701 - Slytherin - Head of House: evil minded

576 - Ravenclaw - Head of House: Arithmancy Master

340 - Hufflepuff - Head of House: still a free post


	13. a moody reporter and defence with Moody

**Title:**

A few days more

Sequel to twenty-one days

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Fourth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

"A few days more" is the sequel to "Twenty-one days" – read and review this first or you wouldn't understand all that happens in this story.

The fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindors have survived their imprisonment in the potions classroom situated in the dungeons. How will they go on in all-day life after their survival? How will they manage to reintegrate into the castle's routine and their classes? How will they be able to go back to life at all? Watch how those who survived fight for their lives and for their peace, for their place in the community at Hogwarts.

**Disclaimer: **

Did you see Severus alive at the end of _'The deathly hallows'_? no?

Do you think I would have had him died if I had written those books? no?

Then you know that _'Harry Potter'_ does not belong to me … nor does Severus … regrettably … he belongs to J. K. Rowling …

But Hereweald Hrothgar does …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Warning:**

Story contains references to child abuse.

Child-abuse is a really serious thing, it is an evil thing and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help without being helped, and closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist, is no solution …

I only say - remind yourself of your feelings, of your sympathy, and of your understanding … and handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once being abused … with understanding and with help …

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me - I am …

* * *

><p>break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line<p>

**Previously in A few days more**

_"But why is this the house of Huntingale, uncle Severus?" Draco asked. "If you are the fifth founder, and from what I understand – you are, then this should be the house of Snape, shouldn't it?"_

_"And what would this do to all of you?" He asked, sighing, watching the cat approaching child for child, watching them bonding, watching the children falling asleep as soon as they had finished the bonding. "My name holds a bad reputation and this only would come down towards you. I might be a – kind of – founder, but that doesn't mean anything now, thousands of years after Hogwarts' foundation. The old times are long gone, Draco, and I am only a latecomer, not one of the original founders. The castle has agreed to naming the house Huntingale instead of Snape and that does make it valid." _

**A few days more**

**Chapter thirteen **

**Day twelve – fourth of October – Friday **

**A moody reporter and defence with Moody**

The next morning came and it was clear – it was official now, there was a new house and even the large house glasses that showed the house points showed: Huntingale already had collected twenty-one points, causing students of other houses to take an extra look at the now fifth house and during breakfast whisper ruled in the great hall – again. As if there wasn't already enough whisper in the great hall.

"I want you all to be very careful today." The Potions Master said, clearly getting some of the children out of their thoughts, causing them to blink at him. "Alastor Moody is not to be underestimated. That man has been a capable auror once, one of the few capable aurors actually, even I have to admit that, but he is strange and he surely does not have all his senses. I am sure that he will demand more of you than what you are able to achieve and you should look out for each other. No heroic deeds and no overestimating yourselves. I want you to come and get me the moment you feel that you are pushed beyond your limits."

"I've heard of Moody." Ronald said, frowning and he nodded. Of course the boy would have heard about Moody, Arthur Weasley had been one of the few who had to get the ex-auror out of trouble every now and then. "They say he's called Mad Eye Moody and they say that he's lost his mind, that he has his name with a reason."

"I fear that _'they'_ are correct, Ronald, whoever 'they' are." He said, sighing.

"Dunno, just heard what dad said." The boy said in a voice as if he had to apologize for people talking and him listening. "And the twins."

"He _does_ have his name for a reason and _I_ do have a reason for asking you to be careful with that man. I have heard nothing worrying from the Slytherins so far and they would be the first who would inform either me or Professor Hrothgar. I cannot say the same about Professor Creighton however and I want you to be _very carful_ in his class too. Do not give him _any_ reason to punish you, not the slightest reason at all, do you hear?"

"Dad?" Harry asked unsurely, clearly scared, and he locked his dark eyes with the boy's green ones.

"You do not have to worry, Harry." He said, trying to sound reassuring. "He cannot abuse any of you. He might give you detention or he might give you extra work to do, he even might inform me about any misdeeds, but he cannot punish you physically."

"'k." The boy said but he clearly could hear it in the teen's voice – and see it in his face – it was _not 'ok'_ and he sighed. He wouldn't be able to reassure the boy completely, he knew that. Previous experience had taught the boy too well.

"Well, at least it's defence today." Draco said. "I've been looking forward to this, now, that Harry and I are not on opposite sides anymore. It'll be interesting."

"Yes, I fear it might get – _interesting_." He mused, narrowing his eyes at both boys.

In their magic, both, Harry and Draco, they definitely had been equals from the beginning on.

And their duelling skills had been far beyond that of any seventh year student at the end of last year, Harry's as well as Draco's. Even he, Severus, had to admit that, seeing that he'd had enough chances to watch them duelling in their stupid rivalry, while their knowledge of spells – charms as well as hexes and curses – had been impressive. Frowning he realized that – if Draco's arrogance – which he had inherited from his idiot father – hadn't prevented a solid friendship developing between the two boys, they could have been brilliant together. Instead, they had become rivals who had fought hell and devil just in order to beat each other.

"And when will this press conference be you have mentioned, Severus?" Neville asked, sounding just as worried as Harry had a moment before.

"During potions, Neville." He answered, glad that the shy boy had not reverted back to calling him Professor Snape after they were out of that dungeon prison. "I won't have any of you missing your physical exercises because of an idiot reporter asking for a press conference to annoy the hell out of me. Your day will be hard enough with Moody and Creighton, I guess and I can give up a class in order to prevent you giving up a class that is important for your health."

"I'd have preferred potions to PE." Gregory whispered, leaning towards Vincent who nodded in agreement and he took a deep breath, swallowing a comment. Of course these two would complain. Even Emma and Neville weren't as grumpy as Gregory and Vincent when it came to the subject of PE, and Emma and Neville surely were anything else than happy about these ninety minutes of physical exercises every evening.

Well, he would wait until after the press conference for any decisions made, because maybe they would be too exhausted and tired for anything else than just sitting together in their dungeons home then.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"You better be silent, Snape." Professor Moody said, sharply, and he frowned. He hadn't even started asking Draco about any teacher having the permission to use the unforgivables at Hogwarts, Moody having demonstrated the imperious curse on a spider, and he had just leaned backwards in his chair, towards the blond boy a bit. "It might be that you survived the killing curse, but that does not make you an expert who doesn't have to learn anything about them anymore, Snape. Maybe we practice this little spell on you? Just to get your arrogance a notch down. Let's see about your resilience when it comes to the imperious curse."

A moment later he could hear the clear command in his head to jump upon the table while at the same time he could feel the absolute urge to obey that very command. Anyway, he knew what it was, that it was Moody using the imperious curse on him, an unforgivable, and he frowned, concentrating on _not_ obeying this command.

He was scared like rarely before, knowing that he disobeyed a clear order – and not even one from his uncle but one coming from a wizard who was using an unforgivable on him, knowing what this wizard was capable of if he used an unforgivable on a living person, on a student, and despite the knowledge to end up in Azkaban upon using such a curse on a student, knowing what this wizard would be capable of to punish him if he so wished while at the same time he felt rage soaring through his body and his mind, rage that helped him in his determination to _not_ obey this order.

Why did this teacher use an unforgivable on him anyway? It was forbidden, at least to his knowledge. It was a thing not done and why was it always _him_ anyway who had to beat all odds, who had to bear unforgivables, who had to bear the hate of one teacher or another?

And no one better told him that Moody _didn't_ hate him, because he had seen the same hate in that man's eyes – at least in the one eye that wasn't moving like mad – he had seen in Severus' eyes in the past. And he had heard the same loathing in the man's voice. Not to mention that Moody seemed to use the same kind of speech towards him Severus had used. He'd lived with the Dursleys who hated him to no end and he'd had a teacher who'd hated him to no end, he did know what hate was after all, if not he, then who?

A moment later he felt the pain in his knees and in his left wrist when he landed on the floor.

Apparently a part of him had tried to jump onto the table while a different part of him had tried to _not_ jump.

"You call this an effort, Snape?" Moody growled. "I'm sure that a squib could make a better effort than the poor attempt you just showed. Well, let's try again, _imperio_."

Not really understanding he again tried to not obey the very command, the one command that seemed his only focus, that seemed to take all the _'yes'_ and _'no'_, all the _'maybe'_, all the _'should I'_ or _'should I not'_, all the indecisions, all the insecurities away, the command that seemed to make everything so much easier if he just followed, if he just obeyed.

He could hear Draco's voice calling out for the teacher to stop, he could hear Hermione saying that this was forbidden and he could hear Cameron saying something about telling Severus, Ron saying something about going to the headmaster and he could hear Adrian crying.

Again a moment later he felt pain exploding in his chest when he fell onto the edge of the table, the hard wood robbing his breath for a few seconds and he ended up sitting at the floor, gasping for breath, hissing in pain when he tried to run his hand over his chest to get rid of the pain, to get some breath into his lungs.

The next thing he realized was Cameron and Draco kneeling beside him.

"Let's get you to Severus." Cameron calmly said but despite the calm voice he could see the other boy's hands trembling.

"I'm fine." He gasped. "Just forget it, I'm fine, and dad just would get angry."

"Yes, but not at _you_." Cameron said. "You'll get into trouble if you don't ask for Severus' help, Harry. He'll want to know about this."

"Nothing happened, Cameron, I'm fine." He croaked out, trying to smile at the older boy.

"Of course nothing happened, Harry, you idiot!" Draco called , clearly upset, the blond boy's voice trembling. "A teacher just cast an unforgivable at you and you claim that nothing happened, I start to see why your relatives had been able to … you're an idiot! You …"

"That is enough, gentlemen." Moody's voice broke through the crowd. "Sit down, all of you and stop this whimpering Snape. You're not better than your father, a small, little, whimpering Snivellus, trying to get other people into trouble with your pitying snivelling. Maybe you just try a bit harder next time, if this is possible for you. Your real father would be ashamed of you. James Potter would turn in his grave at the sad display you have shown as well as for his son becoming a mini-death-eater in training. From a Snape however, one couldn't expect more than _that_."

Well, if later anyone asked him a question about the lesson, he wouldn't have been able to give an answer, even if his life had depended on it, because the remainder of the lesson he was sitting there, halfway numb, Moody's words never leaving his mind, Moody's words re-playing in his mind over and over again, and he knew – not even Severus in his worst times would have hurt him as much as this man here had.

He of course immediately realized that – yet again – he was the subject of hate someone felt towards his father, towards his adopted father this time, but again it was hate not directed towards him but towards his father, but _he_ had to pay for it. Was this normal? Would it always be like this? Why did people always have _him_ paying for his fathers? Or for his mother, in aunt Petunia's case, for his parents? It was unfair!

He had liked defence, but he knew that this subject would become what potions had been for him for the past three years.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Well, if he had thought that it might get better – or that at least it wouldn't get worse – then he had been a fool.

Luckily however he did remember his past encounters with Professor Creighton – not to mention that he still had the warning of his father in his head – and so he knew that at least it wouldn't get better.

He however had hoped that it wouldn't get worse – in vain, but one could always hope.

Moody hadn't allowed them to eat the cereal bars Severus had them packing this morning and the fear of being late for Creighton's class had kept them from eating the cereal bars on their way from the defence classroom to the history classroom – not to mention that Moody hadn't given them any time to rest or to relax a bit. He had startled – and exhausted – them with sudden attacks, telling them that they always had to be prepared – "constant vigilance" he had called out each time he had attacked one of them – and he only had growled angrily when Ron and Cameron had told him that there were some that weren't allowed doing magic yet, like Harry, Theodore, Draco and Adrian. Moody however only had gotten angry, had doubled his attacking them, always calling out that he would not support their weakness, that he would not coddle anyone, that they had to wake up finally because no Death Eater would coddle them in reality.

And now Creighton's class had just started, the man droning on about the rules in his class and that he would not allow them to bend his rules, never mind what – and he already was exhausted beyond anything he had ever felt.

Of course he knew that surely down there in the dungeons he had felt more exhausted than what he felt now, but right now it was a current feeling and right now he felt as if it were hell. He was tired, his stomach was cramping, his chest hurt and he wanted nothing else than just closing his eyes and resting for a few minutes. Just a few minutes. And history of magic had started just half an hour ago, they had still an hour left.

Looking around he could see the others being just as tired, being just as exhausted, their faces pale and drawn, their eyes dark and their fingers shaking.

Adrian flinched at every word Creighton hissed out sharply, the man's voice being filled with anger and dissatisfaction, with disappointment and with displeasure, a man that didn't like his own skin and therefore hating anyone else just as much. That at least was what he thought.

Ron looked angrily back at the man, as did Cameron and he knew that both boys were close to asking Creighton for a pause. Hermione was soaking in every word the teacher said, like always, even if she looked as if she forced herself to listen.

"The saviour of the wizarding world, the chosen one." Creighton hissed out and he was startled at the sudden closeness of the man's voice, snapped his eyes open and up at the man.

Had he fallen asleep? He had been awake, watching the others, hadn't he? Or had he really fallen asleep for a second or two?

"What a pitying view, the chosen one falling asleep in a lesson!" The man hissed, leaning his hands at his table and leaning close to him. For a moment he even wondered if that man could read his thoughts and might have seen a memory of Severus doing exactly this in his third year. But of course it was stupid, because people couldn't read minds or view memories and so it was just coincidence, nothing else. "I won't allow any student to fall asleep in my lessons, Potter." The man hissed and he couldn't help the fear creeping up his spine. "Maybe if we teach you a lesson it will be enough for all of you to remember in future. Get off your chair, boy, move your nose into that corner and place your hands behind your neck. Maybe standing during your lesson will teach you to stay awake in future."

He shook his head warningly towards Ron, Draco and Cameron when they started to protest and simply got off his chair, walking over to the corner Creighton was pointing at.

He knew what the man was doing, namely making an example, and he was sure that never mind what, Creighton would have done this anyway, he would have found one thing or another and he was glad that it was him and not Adrian, Miles or Emma. The younger children surely wouldn't have been able to deal with this.

And he knew what would come.

He wasn't stupid after all and thirteen years living at the Dursley's household had taught him enough. He knew that Creighton would have him standing there for the entire hour and he knew that soon his entire body would feel as if being on fire, starting with the muscles in his arms, shoulders and back.

He didn't fear the stupidity of having to look at a wall for an hour, he knew enough things to keep his mind busy with for an hour, but he knew that standing there with his hands behind his neck for such a long time would be hell.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Throwing the quill down at the table he stood to go and meet the children at the great hall.

Damn Albus, the ministry and any magical contracts, including Maxime and Karkaroff, but most importantly, damn Fudge. How could they – after two hundreds of years – re-establish the triwizard tournament? After a cockatrice the champions had been supposed to be catching went on the rampage and all three school heads had been injured in 1792? How could they be so stupid to re-establish the tournament again now? And even bringing in dragons for that event?

Alright – they did have the courtesy to keep underage students from partaking, but even a seventeen year old student was far too young for such a thing like the triwizard tournament – and dragons! What had they been thinking, in Merlin's name!

Of course he didn't have to bother that any of his children would have to partake, because they were fourteen only, far too young to place their names into the goblet of fire and he knew that Albus was doing an age-line, as would _he_ do, and one with a potion, seeing that Albus was doing one with a spell.

But that didn't mean that he wasn't worried. He knew that there were some of his Slytherins that were eager to prove themselves in a competition like that.

Entering the great hall he immediately noticed the tense mood at the table of their house and he narrowed his eyes at them one by one, trying to find out what trouble they had gotten into now. His eyes came to a halt at Harry the moment he noticed the boy's exhaustion. The pale face had lost nearly all remaining colour, the green eyes were shaded with dark rings and the thin arms and shoulders were trembling uncontrollably.

"What happened?" He asked without greeting, softly, placing his hand at the trembling shoulders. He didn't like the flinch he immediately received, but just one look was enough so that he knew anyway, the trembling itself was not caused by fear but came from exhausted muscles. "Ronald?" He asked his prefect.

"It's been Professor Creighton." The boy said and inwardly he already seethed with anger at the idiot man – again. "Professor Moody kept us all on the edge with his attacks and after I've told him that Harry and a few others weren't supposed to use magic – or magic being used upon them – he continued with bangs to simulate his attacks, always calling out 'constant vigilance' and telling us that the Death Eaters wouldn't coddle us. We've been tired and we didn't have any time to rest before Creighton's class, and Harry closed his eyes during History, just for a second."

"Continue, Ronald." He said when the boy stopped speaking, his eyes scanning the staff table, searching for both teachers, while he remembered the man's words just a few days ago.

_"Bear in mind, Snape, that I won't allow any student to fall asleep in my lessons, no exceptions."_

_"I will make sure of this, Creighton. I just cannot promise your class being visited regularly by all the students in this case and you better be silent, Moody, because I do know what you are doing to my students during detention!"_

From the Slytherins he knew that Moody was a strange teacher, more demanding than he should be during class but nearly coddling during detention while he had the students in a one to one situation, strange really, and generally harmless. But he should have kept them from visiting _Creighton's_ class to begin with, never mind what Albus had said.

"Well, Professor Creighton had Harry standing in the corner, with his hands behind his neck, and for the remainder of the lesson." Ronald softly said while Harry murmured a soft "sorry" from beneath the huddle that was his arms, hands and head.

"And that was how long, Ronald?" He asked, starting to massage his son's tense shoulders.

Harry was actively partaking in all of their meals, breakfast, lunch and dinner as well as the snacks between. He was sleeping a lot and he was doing the exercises in the gym he especially for them had installed in the dungeon. He also had the children walking through the grounds once a day, around the lake even if they had enough time at the weekends and if the weather allowed it, and he had them talking and playing games in the evenings, making sure that they did other things aside from just studying as many of them were afraid that they wouldn't catch up due to their imprisonment and four weeks of classes they had missed, and then would disappoint him.

In other words, they were recovering – but that recovery was slow going and with some of the children, like Harry for example, it was even more slow going than with the others. And of course it was, seeing that the boy had been starved and abused for three months before their three week long imprisonment. The boy was lucky to be alive even.

But he _was_ alive still.

And he had been the one who had kept the others upright back then.

On the other hand Harry often was very quiet now.

While he had kept all their spirits up during those twenty-one days down in the potions classroom, it now was as if he had spent all energy of keeping up anything back then and he now was simply empty, sometimes too tired to even bothering with anything except of sitting there, wordlessly, thinking, his green eyes lost so far away, lost so deep in whatever thoughts might go through the child's head, it was startling sometimes, scary and worrying.

The still so very small portions the boy barely managed eating were worrying as well, but it had to be expected, knowing how long this particular child had been starved actually. It would take time for him to get used to eating regular and – halfway – full meals again.

All of this, the good things and the bad things were promising for Harry's recovery, and he knew that, knew that even the bad – it was necessary so that in the long run it would be alright. What wasn't promising however, was his still constant trembling. Harry had still not been able keeping up his own body warmth, relying on charms and warm clothes to keep at a reasonable temperature … and even then, Severus could see the small body shaking from the cold every so often.

At first it had been worrying, then it had become concerning, and now it simply was terrifying and Severus had little choice than facing what was in front of him – Harry had survived, yes, but it would take him months to recover from the hell he had lived in for nearly his entire life, and especially for the last nearly four months – if he ever would.

"I will have you out of that class." He growled softly enough to not startle the child. "But for now I expect you to eat and then to lay down and sleep. I will cancel the press conference that is scheduled for this afternoon."

"Don't, please." The boy softly said, not even bothering with complaining about him, Severus, massaging his thin and trembling limbs in the midst of lunch in the great hall where all the other students could see the action.

"You are in no condition for that conference, Harry." He said, seriously.

"I'll be alright after an hour of sleep." The boy said and he took a deep breath to not snap at the idiot child that was his son.

"I do doubt that, Harry." He growled. "Give me your other arm. You will lay down after lunch and the only place you will be going – maybe – is the gardens but surely not to any conference with idiot reporters that would only annoy the hell out of not only me but you too."

"They'll never stop harassing the school if we don't have this press conference, dad." The boy softly said, reaching his other arm at him and he took the thin and trembling limb, gently massaging a relaxing potion into the stiff and overstrained muscles. "And I'd like to go to Hogsmeade anytime soon without having to fear them waylaying for a statement. Please, dad, I'll manage. I'd just like to get this out of the way while you're there. Don' wanna be alone with 'em." The boy added in a whisper and he sighed, knowing that not only the boy was right but that also he was scared.

"Alright." He said, clearly being anything than happy. "But after lunch and until the conference you will lay down for at least an hour. And after the conference you will lay down too, and even if it is on the sofa in the parlour or in the garden only, that will depend on the weather this evening."

"'k, dad." The boy murmured and he gritted his teeth in frustration, realizing that never mind what, he couldn't keep them from every danger – or unnecessary strain like the needless strain caused by idiot reporters, just for example.

"Concerning Creighton, I will have a word with the headmaster." He then said, sitting down beside the boy and starting his own lunch. He would like to go and kill that idiot man right now, but Creighton wasn't even present in the great hall – nor was Moody.

"Do eat your lunch, Harry." He said. "I will excuse you from any homework for the day, happy?"

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Well, under normal circumstances he actually would have been happy about being excused from doing homework, yes. But since the beginning of this school year – he didn't live with normal circumstances. His world had turned upside down within a few days and it had stayed like that, even if he had to admit that it was better that way. He had a father now, he had someone who cared and – even the trouble with Creighton, it didn't seem so bad than the trouble with Snape had been back during the past few years – because now he had someone who stood behind him, now he had someone who cared about him, about what had happened to him.

So no, he didn't live under normal circumstances and so – he rather would do his homework, not wanting to disappoint his father.

He knew however better than to argue with the man about this, knowing that he'd lose the argument. Severus could be very persistent, never mind if it came to homework, detention, points taken, or other bad things, or if it came to caring, worrying or such things. And so he knew that – he better just did as his father told him and lay down after lunch.

The thing was, he wasn't able to sleep.

The upcoming press conference was making his insides squirm unpleasantly.

What if the Dursleys would get their hands on a wizarding newspaper? Like they saw news on the TV about Sirius last year? What if they read about him having a father now? They would make his world a living hell when he came back next summer, they would have him paying and they would – no, they wouldn't kill him, they would be too scared like they had been too scared because of Sirius being his godfather, but they would hurt him for being a freak who had a father who didn't even want him during the holidays – and he knew that this would hurt more than any beating they could give him.

Sighing he turned in his bed.

If only this press conference would go well.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Trustworthy resources reported that you started cannibalism, taught to you by Professor Snape." One of the reporters said and he groaned in frustration at the stupidity of the man. Didn't he see all the seventeen children and more even here being alive? How stupid could they be? Alone the _thought_ was so absurd, he wondered who had come up with this particular report to begin with.

It was however Harry, who surprised him the most, the boy looking at his hands and starting to count his fingers.

After the children had been all awake – even Harry, who had slept the longest – he had brought them here, explaining to them that they most likely would have to deal with idiot questions from those reporters. Harry immediately had huffed at him, and seeing that the boy had been in the kitchen often, listening to the wireless reporting about the "tragedy of Hogwarts", of course the boy knew exactly how stupid a reporter could be.

"Well, I do have all fingers still." The boy seriously exclaimed, causing the reporters to grow still for a moment, watching the boy taken aback.

"What?" The boy then asked and he had to keep himself from chuckling at his son's innocent face. He knew best that the child was anything than innocent when it came to jokes. "I'm supposed to have ten fingers, am I not?"

"So, what _did_ you eat down there, Mr. Potter?" One of the reporters asked, coming out of his stupor.

"It's Mr. _Snape_." The boy growled darkly and in a perfect imitation of his own growl, causing him to smirk. "Professor Snape has adopted me and my name is Harry Snape. And WE – have eaten pickled brains of reporters that asked too many annoying questions!"

"Professor Snape has adopted you, Mr. Potter?" Another reporter asked, looking the teen over. "A death eater adopting the saviour of the wizarding world? The Boy-Who-Lived?"

"How is it, to be the son of a death Eater, Mr. Potter?" Another reporter wanted to know, coming as close as possible to have a good shot with his camera. A moment later the man dropped the equipment as if he had burned his fingers, looking shocked before he looked accusingly at him the moment the camera on the floor ended up in smoke.

"No pictures." He said, coldly. "We all have agreed on a verbal statement from the children, but no pictures."

"Bastard." The man whispered.

"Well, you want a statement." Draco said, standing. "Here is mine: I won't answer any questions asked by reporters who insult the one man who kept us all alive and who helped us through _anything_. Good day, gentlemen." And with that the boy left the room, followed by Theodore and Cameron.

"What?" The man asked, blinking at the boy's retreating back and the closing door. "No! Get them back, Snape!"

"Surely I won't do such a thing." Severus said. "This conference is voluntary and my students have the right to choose leaving due to rude comments coming from the press."

"First you have us waiting for two hours and now you don't give away any information." The man angrily called out.

"You do know very well what reason for I have kept you waiting and I have been under the impression that you were not ready to put the children's health at risk."

**Flashback**

_Opening the door to the visitors' room at Hogwarts Severus Snape straightened to his full height before he entered the room, his face his usual unreadable mask. _

_He immediately took in the reporters, two coming from the Daily Prophet, bearing the emblem of the paper, one coming from the Quibbler, Xenophilius Lovegood standing close to the window, two coming from the wizarding wireless and two from Wizarding Network. Well, they would not like what he had to say and he inwardly smirked at the opportunity to annoy them a bit. _

_"Gentlemen, I suggest that you take a seat and enjoy the drinks the house elves have prepared, because I fear that the press conference has to be delayed for an hour or two." He said, barely able to keep from smirking at the horrified faces of the reporters, knowing that two hours might be a very long time for them during which they could have held several other interviews for their papers. _

_"What? But the conference was scheduled for two o'clock in the afternoon, Snape." One of the reporters called out, clearly unhappy about the delay._

_"And yet you will wait until all my students are awake." He said, trying to sound calm and collected while in truth he would like using one of his more painful curses on the idiot man._

_"Then just go and wake them." Another reporter said and he leaned with his hands onto the table, leaning close to the idiot man._

_"I think not." He growled darkly, softly. "These children do need their sleep, don't you think so, Mr. Davidson? Or are you really ready to risk the health of seventeen children just to get your article written in the Daily Prophet? I thought not. Now, if you will excuse me, I have things to do until the children are awake. I will bring them in here and I suggest you keep from storming over them like a bunch of idiot hippogriffs the moment they enter this room."_

**End flashback**

"Listen, there isn't much to tell anyway." Ronald said before anyone could say something that might have had the situation going out of hands. "We've eaten one or another root, we've had one or another – _soup_ – brewed by Professor Snape, we've had herbal tea with honey and enough water. And except of that, we've played games to get our minds off the situation, we've studied and we've talked a lot.

"How have you studied without having real classes?" Lovegood asked before any of the other reporters could ask one more annoying question.

"Well, we've had our books and Professor Snape has all the books from year one to year seven in his office too, the entire Hogwarts syllabus." Hermione answered, happily. "And Professor Snape was there to answer any questions we've had. It was quite fun and even though we've not been to real classes for four weeks, we anyway learned a lot."

"Four weeks?" Another reporter asked. "To my knowledge you've been locked up in the dungeons for three weeks, not four."

"That is correct." He growled darkly at the man. "But Miss Granger's answer is anyway correct, seeing that they needed a week until they were healthy enough to visit classes after being imprisoned for three weeks."

"What subjects did you cover down there?" Lovegood asked and he made a silent note to himself to give Miss Lovegood one or two extra points should he see her in the corridors.

"Any subject we wanted." Harry answered. "We've definitely covered potions and history, and transfiguration and defence too. And we've even covered theology."

"Theology?" The man asked. "But that isn't a subject covered at Hogwarts generally."

"No, it is not." He answered, placing his hand at his son's shoulder. "But don't you think that the children might have had questions in contemplation of death?"

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Well, all in all the press conference had gone rather well, _after_ the initial idiot questions had been asked – or in other words, after Xenophilius Lovegood had started asking more reasonable questions and therefore leading the others. He had called a stop to the conference anyway an hour later, when the children had started to get tired. It had been a tiring day, a strenuous day with two teachers not allowing them peace or rest, one of them even abusing one of his students – and nothing else had Creighton's action towards Harry been.

Of course he'd gone to Albus – and of course the man had told him to be patient with both, Moody and Creighton. _And_ – of course Albus had told him to give both of them one last chance and that he could withdraw all his students if they mishandled one of his students just once more.

He should have known. Albus always was one for a second chance, for a third chance even, for a thousandth chance if necessary. Merlin, how this man got as far in the war as he actually did, with all his forgiving, he didn't know.

Well, he'd led the children out of their quarters and into the part of the back yard that was attached to their rooms. He had them sitting down, resting, and he even was ready to turn down PE for today. They'd had a strenuous enough day, and one day without PE wouldn't harm them. They had partaken in the physical exercises for the entire week without too much complains after all.

Watching Harry when he stepped outside he noticed the boy trembling again, the teen being worse today and throwing a blanket he had brought with them over the bony form that was sitting in one of the more cosy chairs he settled down into one of the chairs himself while the others were scattered around them on the benches or in the grass.

He would manage, he swore to himself, one way or another he would manage to bring Harry back to health, back to life.

Sighing Harry leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes and allowing his father to cover him with the blanket, immediately knowing that the soft fabric had a warming charm on it, enjoying the fact that the man cared, that _someone_ cared, that he wasn't alone with all his troubles anymore.

He was grateful for the blanket Snape – his father – always brought with him, as well as for other things, like a cardigan or a bag with potions or other things the older wizard thought he maybe would need. It was more than two weeks now since their _'21 days'_ like many of them called it, but still he always was so damn cold and weak and tired, and Severus always tried his best to make it easier for him.

The man definitely was the complete opposite from what he had been the past three years. He was caring and he was helping and he was … sighing he had to admit that he didn't know what exactly, and looking over at the man he couldn't help but smile at the strange picture of one Severus Snape, dark and tough Potions Master, who was enjoying the sun.

It looked to him like a man who was enjoying the last sun he would see in his life, ever, or the first sun which he never before had seen – and Harry swallowed thickly for a moment, hitching a breath, because he knew – he wasn't so far from the truth. Severus, as much of a dungeon person as he might be, he too had not seen the sun for twenty-once days and surely he must have missed it, feeling the warm rays of sunlight on his face that still was paler than it used to be since he knew that man.

"Do not set yourself apart, Mr. Snape." He heard his father's soft voice and suddenly the man was leaning towards him, his hand softly touching his chin and lifting his head. "Do not forget that you have been through the same than the rest of us, if not worse." The man's gaze upon him was so piercing suddenly, he could feel it slicing through his body and through his mind, through his soul like a sharp knife … as if the man could read his thoughts, again!

Well, one thing was sure – as much as this Potions Master was enjoying the warm rays of the sunlight on his face, on his entire body, he still was Severus Snape, hard and tough Potions Master and he had learned about the man's protectiveness and he knew – with this man as his father, he would be safe forever.

break ... ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ... line

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued<strong>

**Next time in A few days more**

___________The first weekend, examination and purchasing___________

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too, thank you …

**House cup: **

At the present time it looks like this:

708 - Gryffindor - Head of House: Catlady

701 - Slytherin - Head of House: evil minded

576 - Ravenclaw - Head of House: Arithmancy Master

340 - Hufflepuff - Head of House: still a free post


	14. St Mungos and Diagon Alley

**Title:**

A few days more

Sequel to twenty-one days

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Fourth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

"A few days more" is the sequel to "Twenty-one days" – read and review this first or you wouldn't understand all that happens in this story.

The fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindors have survived their imprisonment in the potions classroom situated in the dungeons. How will they go on in all-day life after their survival? How will they manage to reintegrate into the castle's routine and their classes? How will they be able to go back to life at all? Watch how those who survived fight for their lives and for their peace, for their place in the community at Hogwarts.

**Disclaimer: **

Did you see Severus alive at the end of _'The deathly hallows'_? no?

Do you think I would have had him died if I had written those books? no?

Then you know that _'Harry Potter'_ does not belong to me … nor does Severus … regrettably … he belongs to J. K. Rowling …

But Hereweald Hrothgar does …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Warning:**

Story contains references to child abuse.

Child-abuse is a really serious thing, it is an evil thing and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help without being helped, and closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist, is no solution …

I only say - remind yourself of your feelings, of your sympathy, and of your understanding … and handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once being abused … with understanding and with help …

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me - I am …

* * *

><p>break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line<p>

**Previously in A few days more**

_It looked to him like a man who was enjoying the last sun he would see in his life, ever, or the first sun which he never before had seen – and Harry swallowed thickly for a moment, hitching a breath, because he knew – he wasn't so far from the truth. Severus, as much of a dungeon person as he might be, he too had not seen the sun for twenty-once days and surely he must have missed it, feeling the warm rays of sunlight on his face that still was paler than it used to be since he knew that man._

_"Do not set yourself apart, Mr. Snape." He heard his father's soft voice and suddenly the man was leaning towards him, his hand softly touching his chin and lifting his head. "Do not forget that you have been through the same than the rest of us, if not worse." The man's gaze upon him was so piercing suddenly, he could feel it slicing through his body and through his mind, through his soul like a sharp knife … as if the man could read his thoughts, again!_

_Well, one thing was sure – as much as this Potions Master was enjoying the warm rays of the sunlight on his face, on his entire body, he still was Severus Snape, hard and tough Potions Master and he had learned about the man's protectiveness and he knew – with this man as his father, he would be safe forever._

**A few days more**

**Chapter fourteen **

**Day thirteen – fifth of October – Saturday **

**St. Mungo's and Diagon Alley**

"Dad?" The boy asked and he looked down at the fourteen year old, once again noticing how startling it was, the fact that he had to look down like he looked down at one of the first years. What he also noticed was – Harry always started a question with addressing him before asking, the boy never giving away a question the way it came to his mind but always addressing him first with a "dad?" or a "sir?" or in the worst case with a "professor?"

"Yes?" He asked back.

In the beginning he had thought that most likely he would be annoyed by Harry calling him _'dad'_ and he had dreaded this particular word for addressing him. He would have settled with 'Severus' or with 'father' even if necessary, but soon had he realized that the boy he had adopted had been in too much need of someone to call dad – of course the boy would do so very soon and strangely – it had not bothered him like he had feared.

"Why are we here?" The boy asked, looking up at him unsurely. Of course the boy was unsure, upon everything he said or did. He always was unsure still. "Isn't that examination at St. Mungo's today?"

He also had dreaded the questions over questions coming from a teenage child that lived in very close contact with him, as his son actually, the boy asking stupid questions until he had a headache – but there hadn't been stupid questions, the boy asking questions that actually were worth being asked and except of that learning by watching others or listening to others, and upon learning that the child hadn't even been allowed to school before Hogwarts, that all the knowledge he had, he'd had to gain all alone by himself, by trial and error, being punished, beaten and locked away for said error and the only praise for a success being not beaten – it soon had smashed his resolve to let the thousands and thousands of upcoming question in to one ear and out the other. This child could ask him all the questions he wanted and he wouldn't mind.

"It is." He confirmed while leading the boy across the street to Gladrag's. "But seeing that your trunk holds nothing than old rags that do not even fit, you are in desperate need of new clothes."

"Wha- …" The boy made, abruptly stopping in his tracks. Well, luckily it was Saturday morning and the street wasn't as crowded as it was during the week, only a few older witches doing their Saturday morning shopping or the boy would have caused people running into him.

"You are in desperate need of new clothes, child." He said, frowning.

"But … but you can't … I mean … I don't need them and …" The boy gasped out, actually taking a step backwards, the green eyes going large and ghost-like in the pale face, like so often, and he reached out to take the boy's upper arm before he could flee the situation completely and he had to search Diagon Alley for the child.

"I do know you very well by now." He said, locking his dark eyes with the green ones and trying to get as much confidence over to the child. "And so I am aware of the fact that you dislike getting things, even though they are needed and even though you get them rightfully. And in your case, new clothes are very _much_ needed and you _do_ get them rightfully. You should have gotten them years ago already!"

"But you don't have to …" The boy choked out, the green eyes going desperate and he wondered why.

"Actually – I do have to." He said, gently and slowly guiding the child into the direction of the shop. "I have adopted you and so you are my son now, I am your father, and I am responsible for not only feeding you, for not only giving you a roof over your head, a bed and a place to live in, but I also am responsible for your school supplies, for your clothes, for books and toys, for comfort given to you. But except for the _'have to'-_aspect, I also do _wish_ to. No one has provided you with the things any child needs – I would like to do so now, Harry. Please do allow me to care for you the way someone should have cared for you years ago, child."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

And there it was again – the _"child"_, the one word that made him weak, the one word that showed that Severus was the first one, the only one, who admitted that he was just that, a child, and he couldn't help giving in. He didn't know if Severus did this on purpose – the man knew him well enough now, like he'd said, and he was sure that his father knew exactly where his weak spots were, one being the word "child" used by that man.

"'k" He said, giving in, but he didn't like it one bit.

Of course it would be nice to have new clothes, other children had new clothes every now and then too, and he always had wished that he'd get something new too instead of the old rags from his cousin.

Aunt Petunia had been very stingy with Dudley's clothes. The clothes that had been alright and without holes or stains she had brought to the second hand shop and the clothes that had only a small hole or stain, she had given to the Salvation Army. Only those clothes that really couldn't be given away anymore because they had too many holes or stains, the clothes that were too worn off and thin – well, he had gotten them. And that really hadn't been many clothes.

He'd normally had one spare Jeans, a spare pullover and two or three t-shirts, a pair of shoes and – well, too little underwear. It's been the first thing he'd bought before his first year at Hogwarts, when he'd been to Diagon Alley, underwear. Underwear that fit, underwear that had not been worn by someone else, underwear that was clean and without holes – and stains.

Of course he'd had to be careful with his money, he'd know that, and so he hadn't spent too much of it, but he'd bought new underwear together with his school robes.

So yes, that his father was now going to buy him new things felt nice, definitely, very nice, but … but what if the man realized that he was not worth so much money? What if the man realized that he was better off without him? And what if …

The boy slumping his shoulders caused him to frown.

What was so startling at the thought of getting new clothes?

"Who's been the whale you got those – _clothes_ from anyway?" He asked. Of course he knew exactly who'd been the whale – or rather, the baby whale – Harry had gotten those damn clothes from, but he asked anyway, just to lighten the mood a bit.

And indeed, the boy snorted at his question.

"Whale is a good description." Harry said, huffing at him. "They're from my cousin. Aunt Petunia always gave the good clothes to a second hand shop and to the Salvation Army. I only got those clothes that couldn't be given away anymore." The boy added with a shrug.

"One only has to look at the rags you have in your trunk to know that." He growled darkly. "Just the more it is time that you get new clothes for once in your life, child. And neither will I allow you to run along in clothes being transfigured from a sheet of paper for any longer either. Come now, we're there." He then added, leading the boy into the shop.

It was one of the larger and more well cared for buildings in the alley, but it was one of the more expensive cloth shops too. Seeing however that Gladrag sold the best only, well, he only bought his clothes here and he never had rued his decision.

"Professor Snape." One of the clerks came to greet him. "Shall I get Mr. Gladrag for you?"

"Yes, please, Mr. Henson." He said before leading the boy to a corner with a table surrounded by armchairs and a sofa, sitting down at the large sofa. A moment later he had his son sitting beside him unsurely, the boy clearly scared in the new and unknown environment. But well, that had to be expected. Any abused child would be scared in unknown environment and so he didn't mind the boy sitting closer than necessary.

"Care for a cup of hot chocolate?" He asked the boy who looked up at him with two large eyes, only nodding his head in confirmation.

"Trippy." He called the house elf that worked at Gladrag's.

"Master Professor Snape, sir." Came the elf's squeaky voice. "What can Trippy do for Master Professor Snape, sir?"

"A cup of my usual blend of tea, please, and a cup of hot chocolate for this young man here please, Trippy." He ordered and a moment later the house elf was gone with an "of course, Master Snape, sir" and a soft 'pop'.

"You can order drinks in a shop for clothes?" Harry asked, startled.

"Gladrag is one of the most expensive cloth shops you could find in London, wizarding or muggle London, and so of course you lose a lot of money by shopping here." He explained, leaning back against the backrest of the sofa, pulling the boy with him. "But his service is excellent. His clothes have woven self cleaning charms for stains into them as a standard, simple protective charms for minor spells and hexes as well as a slight fitting charm – and yes, one of his services is, you get drinks while waiting and if you are a regular customer like me, then you even get lunch if you happen to be at his shop during lunchtime."

"Whoa … wait … that means – if I spill the hot chocolate over the clothes accidentally, then they won't be stained?" Harry asked, amazed at the information.

"Exactly that." He answered.

"Whoa." The boy made again. "Could have needed these for living with the Dursleys when I've been smaller, would've spared me one or another punishment."

"You won't be punished for spilling anything in future, you do realize that, don't you, Harry?" He asked, his eyes narrowed at the brat, ignoring the house elf that brought the required drinks. "It is a normal thing for children to spill something every now and then, it happens, and it surely is no reason for punishment."

"Yeah." The boy answered but he didn't really look at him.

"Harry!" He said. "Do you?"

"Yes, I do." The boy said, sighing. "It is just … it's strange, having you telling me that it isn't a reason for punishment. I've been so sure that you'd punish a toddler for spilling things."

"Well, then surely Draco wouldn't be able to sit on his behind since years, Harry." He chuckled. Well, at least his reputation was not lost completely – he however didn't like the fact that the boy still seemed to fear him.

"Professor Snape, good morning." Gladrag said while approaching the sofa and sat down in one of the armchairs. "I see you already have made yourself home. I hope I find you in good health?"

"Considering the situation, yes, I cannot complain." He answered, knowing that Gladrag never would mention any gossip of the – _'tragedy of Hogwarts'_ – and he was sure that the man had heard of it like anyone else. "May I introduce to you my son, Harry Snape."

"Mr. Snape, nice to meet you." Gladrag said, smiling at the boy who gave a small "hello" away, causing him to chuckle. "I already wondered about your visit, Professor, seeing that you've been here during the summer holidays to do your shopping. Not that I would complain however." The man added with a smirk, causing him to chuckle. Gladrag was one of the few people who would dare smirking at him, knowing that he wouldn't take it the wrong way. A shop owner who knew how he could handle his several customers was a rare thing.

"I am not here for myself, Mr. Gladrag, but for my son." He said, taking a deep breath, knowing that the boy wouldn't like what would come next.

"I see." Gladrag answered, still smiling but the smile seemed forced for a moment when casting a deeper glance at the boy's clothes and he knew that Gladrag noticed the clothes being transfigured from sheets of paper only, even if he didn't say anything about it.

"We need an entire wardrobe for Harry." The Potions Master said. "And I would like to visit your boys' section too so that my son can choose one or another thing for himself."

"Of course Professor." Gladrag smiled. "We have a new collection for fourteen and fifteen year old teenagers since last week and I'm sure that you will find one or anther thing you'd like Mr. Snape."

Well, he always had known that Gladrag wasn't stupid and even if the boy looked like an eleven year old first year student, his scar being hidden behind strands of black hair falling into the pale face, Gladrag seemed to know exactly who that boy was, seeing that there had been a fourth year Harry being imprisoned together with him, and therefore handled him like the fourteen year old.

Well, the boy itself only nodded his head quickly and nervously, unable to give an answer.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

They had finished their drinks, having small talk with Gladrag – or rather, he'd had the small talk with Gladrag while Harry had been sitting there, listening, only answering one or another question about what colours he liked, if he liked casual clothes or rather sartorial elegance – at which the boy had gotten large eyes – and then the tailor had taken the boy's measures, with a charm luckily, after the boy had gotten tense upon the tailor coming close.

Again Gladrag had said nothing but had taken his wand and had cast a measuring spell.

He knew that there had been a cursory scan too, the man never daring to do a deeper diagnostic, but he knew that Gladrag would weave a warming charm as well as a softening charm on the clothes added to the self-cleaning and protective charm.

Well – and now they were here, in the boys' section, and he had to take a deep breath every few minutes to not lose his patience with the boy, reminding himself that it was _not_ Harry's fault.

But well, watching the boy standing in front of a hoodie or a Jeans, with bright eyes and then quickly turning away without taking it or at least asking if he could have it – it was nerve wracking.

"The set of wardrobe I have ordered earlier is underwear, your school uniform, plain white shirts and black trousers." He said, hoping to make it easier for the child. "Except of that it contains only a few white t-shirts and a few plain pullovers. You now have to chose your more personal clothing to wear in privacy, Harry."

"But …" The boy said, nearly breathlessly. "But … you don't have to … and I could wear the plain …"

"We already had this discussion, Harry." He said. "I might not _have_ to buy more than the standard wardrobe, but I _wish_ to. You need clothes you like to wear in privacy. And so I expect you to choose some of the clothes you have looked at without daring to take it. Or I will choose for you – t-shirts with potions or potions ingredients on it." He added with a smirk.

Well, the horrified look on the boy's face caused him to chuckle, but a moment later his son actually went back to the clothes he had looked at so longingly earlier.

In the end the boy had chosen a hoodie, one with a dragon on it and he sighed at the reminder of what would be close to the castle soon, namely dragons the ministry had decided to bring to Great Britain for the tournament, a pair of Jeans and two t-shirts, one with a very small dog standing in front of a very large dog, looking up with innocent puppy-eyes and daringly saying "asshole", and one with the inscription "hell was full, so I came back".

Well, the first one surely showed the bloody Gryffindor bravery his son owned while for the second t-shirt – he had to admit that yes, the boy was right. Including the poison from a basilisk, acrumantulas and the killing curse, not to mention twenty-one days of imprisonment without food and the abuse of his former caretakers – the boy had survived more than any adult wizard of high age could say. Something that should not have happened with any child.

"Professor Snape, Mr. Snape." Gladrag greeted them the moment they came back down. "I take it you have found a few items."

"Too little for my liking, but we always can come back." He said with a pointed look at the boy. "Would you please add any charms to these too, Mr. Gladrag?"

"But of course, Professor Snape." The man said. "Would you like a small lunch?"

"Not this time." He said. "My son and I have an important appointment. Please send the items over to Harry's room at Hogwarts."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Well, he had known that they'd like having them for lunch so that they could watch Harry eating. They didn't do so openly of course, just sitting with them and having a conversation about anything imaginable, about school, about what classes they now visited, about Harry's favourite food, about the next Hogsmead trip in a few weeks and even about the three weeks they'd been locked in the dungeons classroom, Harry telling the healer that actually he was glad that it had happened, because otherwise he wouldn't have been adopted by him, Snape.

When the healer however had asked why he would be so happy about that, Harry only had shrugged his shoulders and had concentrated onto the roasted vegetables and potatoes, and the grilled chicken.

Well, after that the conversation had continued while they've been walking through the gardens. Harry clearly had been careful at first after the question from Healer Adam during dinner, but soon he'd started to partake in the conversation again – if he was not following one or another butterfly or bird with his eyes, watching a squirrel for a few minutes or kneeling before a flower.

"Look at the bark of this tree, dad." The boy called out, amazed, standing near an Elven tree.

They had kept standing whenever the boy had looked at something else, the healer and him discussing the boy, his past with the Dursleys – at least that what he knew of it – and the healer running one or another diagnostic when the boy didn't look.

"It is an Elven tree, Harry." He said. "And I do not speak of the house elves but of real Elves, creatures similar to – let me say Vampires. They have lived hundreds of years ago and they have lived up in the trees. That's the reason the bark of the Elven tree is so ragged and easy to be climbed."

"Urgh, they drank blood?" The boy asked, his face scrunched up.

"Of course not, child." He chuckled. "But they are immortal and they are stronger and faster than we humans are."

"Why are they gone?" The boy asked, green eyes showing real interest like with everything the boy asked.

"No one knows." He answered. "No one knows if they are really gone actually or if they just vanished from the view of the human race for one reason or another."

"Maybe they've seen that the human race is so easily ready to destroy lives." The boy softly mused and he knew exactly what his son was thinking, placed his hands on the thin shoulder.

"Like your aunt and uncle?" The healer asked.

Well – he could have told the man what kind of reaction he would elicit from the boy, namely no reaction at all except of –

"You know what is big and blue and is sitting twenty-five yards deep in the earth?" The boy asked, looking up at the man innocently and he chuckled.

"I don't know, Harry." The older healer said. "Maybe it is a blue elephant that has lost his way?"

"Noooo." He boy smiled happily at the healer who accepted the game.

"Then surely it has to be a blue rocket, having lost its way." The healer smiled back at the boy and he sighed.

"Noooooooo." Harry again made, shaking his head.

"Then help me, Harry." The healer said in a suffering and desperate voice.

"It's the big, blue stone eater of course."

"Of course it is the big, blue stone eater." Healer Adam sighed.

"Well, you could have asked me." Severus said, smirking at the older man.

"I should have known that you would enjoy this very much. Professor." The older man said, chuckling. "I forgot how much fun you find in some things."

"Dad?" The boy asked, his voice back to being unsure but the green eyes – even if carefully – looked up at him questioningly.

"Ask this bloody healer." He huffed. "I'm sure he would like sharing one or another story with you."

"Oh … well, it's not really important, sir." Harry said upon having taken his huff for displeasure.

"I think I'll go to search for a bathroom." He smirked at the boy, shaking his head about Harry – yet again – re-treating a step. He knew that healer Adam would like a few minutes with the boy alone anyway and he also knew that Adam wouldn't give away any story he, Severus, wouldn't like the boy to know.

"Oh – I'll come too." Harry immediately said, a hint of panic showing in his voice.

"You have been to the bathroom just a few minutes ago, Harry." He said, getting serious, knowing the reason as to why his son wanted to accompany him. "Healer Adam won't eat you while you are alone with him, he isn't allowed to."

"But I …" The boy softly tried, carefully taking a step backwards.

"Harry …" He calmly warned, just as softly.

"Alright …"

"Good." He gently said, placing his hand at the boy's shoulder for a moment before he turned and left the two. And – even if he never would admit it – he had to force himself to walking away and leaving Harry behind, knowing how miserable the boy felt.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Watching his father leaving he sighed before he turned back towards the Elven tree, running his hand over the rough bark with the many cracks and ledges, refusing to look at the healer in hopes that the man would just forget him if he didn't look at him, that he would not ask any awkward questions. But he would, he knew.

"Well, you know, your father is a Potions Master and as a Potions Master your father of course has made an apprenticeship as a healer too."

Startled – and despite his resolve to _not_ look at the man – he turned and looked up at healer Adam, the older man with the dark hair that was mixed with grey looking over at him with warm and gentle eyes.

"Hmm, yes, if you want to become a Potions Master, you have to become a healer first, and the other way round of course, because you have to know about the other field too." The man said. "Becoming a Potions Master, you have to know what to do in case of an accident or emergency as well as you have to know how the potions you are brewing have to work with each illness, or how they would interfere with other medical things. You also have to know what illness you have to deal with or you couldn't prescribe potions in the first place. The same goes the other way round. As a healer you have to become a Potions Master too, because you have to know how the potions in the body of a patient are working or what could happen if you give someone several different potions, how they are acting or reacting with each other."

"It's a strange thought." He softly said, not sure if it was safe to speak up. "That dad's a healer. But it would explain a lot, I guess."

Harry wasn't sure what he should be feeling, he just couldn't believe how things had changed in the last weeks for him, so completely and so quickly. He was still struggling with the concept of having a father but he was beginning to learn and trust the man, seeing that the older wizard had done everything he could to help him feeling better and feeling safe too. And still there were new things he learned about his father yet.

"Yes, I guess so." The healer chuckled. "It would startle me too. However, your father has been three years working at St. Mungo's for his apprenticeship after he has been working with a Potions Master for three years. Well, the students that do their apprenticeship have their own 'staff room' at the hospital while the students that are in their last year are allowed in the staff room for the professors too. Now, one day there were several clothing hooks attached to one wall in the staff room. In the beginning everyone, even the students had hung up their cloaks at these hooks, and for some time there was quite a quarrel about that because the professors thought that the young students didn't deserve the right to hung up their robes there yet, while the young colleagues thought that the Professors had their own changing rooms after all, not to mention their offices and therefore enough space where they could hang up their cloaks as well. And so of course, one day there was a sign above the cloaks that read _'for Professors only'_. Of course everyone knew who had attached that sign to the wall, namely one of the professors who had been more serious about not allowing the students to hung up their cloaks there. That however didn't keep your father from adding a note just between the sign and the hooks, burned into the wall with his wand, a note that read _'you can hang up cloaks as well'_."

"Dad did this?" He couldn't help asking, smiling, forgetting that he better didn't trust this man too much.

"Hmm, your father surely is not as innocent as he makes you all believing, Harry." Healer Adam said. "He has become a serious man, a proud man and a stern man, a man of responsibility, but that doesn't mean that he's never been a teenager too."

"I've never seen it from this point of view." He softly said.

Learning that his father, that Severus Snape of all people, had been a child once, a teenager once, a young man once, that he had done the same stupid things as they had done, it was strange, it was … and at the same time there was that man that was a healer and not just a Potions Master, a new aspect he had learned about his father too.

At least he now didn't have to wonder anymore why his father knew how to handle them all now, and how to keep them all alive. He didn't have to wonder anymore why he always had the correct potions in his pockets, knowing what to give them and …

But would it be enough? Would all of this … all this new information didn't help him either, didn't help him with – would the man keep him? Would the man …

"You should watch your father's chest swelling proudly each time you call him 'dad'." The older healer said, softly, but with an amused grin on his face.

At first he looked up at the man, startled, but then he smiled back, realizing that – did this mean that Snape really was proud at him? Did this mean that he'd done something right? That Snape was – maybe happy about having him? A bit at least? Looking over at Severus who was coming back from the toilet his smile brightened, causing the man to raise one of his eyebrows at him when he reached them, looking down at him so seriously, like always.

"Something funny, son?" The man asked.

Still smiling, unable to stop smiling, he quickly shook his head while he had a hard time keeping himself from running his arms around the Potions Master's midsection.

"What incorrect story did you tell him, healer Adam?" Severus asked, frowning at the older man who nearly chuckled. Well, of course he knew that Adam never would tell an untrue story – he just wanted to keep the boy smiling a bit longer while he himself wanted to keep the other two from thinking he could enjoy the situation.

"Oh, only the story about the hooks for the cloaks in the Professors' staff room." The man chuckled at his outburst. "Or should I have told him the story about the first exams you had to overlook?"

"Merlin save me from dunderheads, but at least this one is not too harmful for my reputation." He groaned playfully.

"Well, Harry, if you become a healer, then after your apprenticeship you have to teach the younger students at St. Mungos for a year for your apprenticeship to become valid." The man started and he sighed, sitting at the bench beside the garden path and waving Harry over. The boy had been on his feet for hours now, playfully running through the garden of the hospital and chasing butterflies or such foolish things and he could see the tiredness radiating off the boy, Harry most likely not even realizing how tired he was.

"My worst year." He growled while pulling his son close, the boy leaning against him easily.

"Even worse than teaching the 'dunderheads' at Hogwarts?" Harry asked and he nearly smiled at the boy.

"Even worse than that, indeed." He answered, calmly, while running his hand through the mop of black hair.

"Well, back then, there'd been four students that had been so very good at potions that they all had managed their tests throughout the year with an A." The healer continued his story, having Harry listening closely and he smirked. "And they were so sure that they would manage their end exams without troubles too, so that they decided to go to London over the weekend to visit a party of their friends. Now you have to know that if you become a healer, then you have to live your first year as a muggle so that you know what to do in a muggle accident too, you cannot use magic in front of muggles and it wouldn't be fair leaving them to death in an accident just because they're no wizards. We would be back in times with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named then. However. So they drove there with a car, had a good time but unfortunately, after the party they overslept all Sunday and therefore didn't manage it back to the end exam on Monday morning."

"But, they've been wizards!" The boy said. "And if they're in an emergency, and this surely is one, then they surely could have used magic to get back to St. Mungos. It's been the end exams after all and they're important, aren't they?"

"They are, Harry." He said. "But there are rules and one of them says that they have to live as muggles during their first year or they wouldn't be allowed to continue, and that includes the end exams or they would have to repeat the year."

"But that's unfair." The boy sighed.

"Mabye, but it has a reason." Healer Adam said. "They have to learn how to work without their magic and they have to learn that this rule is not to be bent. However, they decided to tell their Professor that they had visited the London National Potions Archive to prepare for the end exams but had a flat tire on their way home and no car-jack, that they'd had to wait until someone had stopped to help them because they hadn't been allowed to do magic of course. Well, their young Professor thought over the matter and then allowed them to do their end exams the next day."

"Ok, now I know that you've not been the Professor but one of the four students, dad." The boy said, turning in his arms to look up at him and he frowned. "Because you never would do such a thing and allow them to do their finals a day late."

He didn't say anything to this, just huffed at the boy.

"Well, the four students had been very glad over this and they really learned until the late evening, and the next morning they arrived punctually at the Professor's classroom. The Professor however placed all four students in four different rooms and then gave them the parchments with the exams. The first questions gained them one point. It was a simple question about how to brew a forgetfulness potion."

"But that's a Hogwarts Potions!" The boy gasped and he chuckled. Of course the boy would remember this one.

"What is the reason as to why the four students thought that this would be an easy exam." Healer Adam said and he couldn't help chuckling again. "They wrote down the answer and then turned their parchment for the second question."

"And what was the second question?" The boy eagerly asked.

"The second question gained them 99 points and it was – which tyre was flat?"

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Dad?" The boy asked after Healer Adam had left them for a moment to order dinner, softly, tiredly, and he could hear the desperation in the boy's voice as well as the strain.

"Yes, Harry?" He asked back, giving his son his full attention.

"When will this examination be?" The boy softly asked. "'m tired."

Well, except for the stories healer Adam had told Harry and except of the moments when the child had been chasing one or another insect through the gardens of the hospital – the boy had been rather tense, clearly fearing that the examination would start at any moment and he wondered how it was, that the boy was so very scared of this.

"The examination is already over." He said, unable to keep the boy on the edge any longer, even though he knew that most likely healer Adam wouldn't have told the boy now.

"It is … but … I don't understand, dad." The boy softly said in a mixture of disbelieve and relief, even a bit of hurt.

"The muggles would do a test with the child knowing that it was a test in hopes that the child would do the best possible." He said while pulling the boy close, knowing that he had to explain it to his son. "But we know that such an unnatural behaviour only would skew the outcome of the test. We rather have a nice day with the child, ask one or another question we deem important but otherwise watch the child. That way we learn much more than if we have the child in an environment where it feels uncomfortable and watched."

"But … but I didn't know …"

"You were not supposed to know or you wouldn't have been simply a normal child." Healer Adam's voice came from the doorway. "But let me assure you that you have done very well, Harry."

"But … but I haven't done anything …"

"Exact." He said, sighing, feeling his son's disappointment even. "You have done nothing except of what we expected of you, running along and playing, asking questions and simply being – you, being Harry. If you had known that this was the examination, would you have been as free as you _have_ been?"

"I think not … sorry, dad." The boy admitted, meekly, and he pulled the boy's head against his chest.

"Exactly, Harry." He said. "And there is no reason to apologize, child. We have tricked you and you have all right to feel disappointed. It is I who has to apologize for tricking you in the first place."

"No!" The boy said, too small hands for a fourteen year old being placed at his chest and the child pushing himself upright, looking at him, startled. "I just forgot to consider that you're the adult and that I …"

"Maybe you also should consider how long it might take for your body to be found, Mr. Snape, if you ever dare going into this line of thoughts again." He growled darkly at the boy, taking the two thin upper arms into a tight grip. "Just because we are the adults it doesn't mean that we have every right over you. That is the line of thinking that the Dursleys have beaten into you, in the truest sense of the word, but … that is not what is right, child." He added after taking a deep breath to calm himself, relaxing the grip he'd had on the child's arms. "As the child, you have to be protected by the adults around you, not harmed. And the adults around you have no right to hurt you in any way or form just because they are older and stronger, they have no more rights than you have just because they can do things to hurt you."

Well, after that dinner hadn't been too easy, the strain of having to fear an oncoming examination falling off the child, and so the boy relaxed so much that he nearly fell asleep over his full plate a few times. In the end he just transfigured their chairs into one large sofa and pulled the boy close until he lay with his head in his lap.

"You don't have to worry, Severus, the boy is quite fine." Adam said and he huffed.

"You have a strange definition of _'fine'_." He said, running his hand over the pale face.

"Considering of what the child has been through, and considering your memories I have viewed, he _is_ fine, Severus, you have cared very well for him."

"He is still not out of the woods yet." He growled at the man.

"I realize that." Adam answered. "But he is on a good way. He _has_ gained weight after all and he _is_ eating without throwing up – as little as he actually does eat and even if he nearly fell asleep during dinner. However, he's moving. He's moving slowly and he awkwardly still, his movements clearly being weak and careful, awkward sometimes, but he _is_ moving, Severus. He is using his brain if he is given an impulse and his ways of thinking are very complicated. Should he survive, then I'm sure that the moment he is at health, he will be a very strenuous child, my dear Professor Snape."

"What do you mean, should he survive?" He growled at the man, startled as well as – as if defending the child this way. This boy was not supposed to die now after all, now that everything was over.

"You have said it yourself, Severus, he is not out of the woods yet and he is so very weak, his organs having lost too much energy in order to keep him alive during your imprisonment, most likely already during the time with his relatives, some of them don't even work properly anymore."

"I know." He sighed. He had run the same diagnostics Adam had, after all. "But there's nothing I can do about that except of giving him the required potions."

"No, there is not." The healer eyed him warily. "And that is the reason as to why I said – should he survive. You should be aware of the fact that he still _could_ die, Severus, do not blind yourself just because you love the boy."

"I do not …" A glance down at the sleeping child in his arms was enough to know – he couldn't speak it aloud and he looked back at the bloody healer. "Yes, I do love that idiot child. But should word of this leave this room here, then be assured that it is _you_ who won't survive. Now, you better continue with the outcome of your examination."

"Well, it definitely is not autism." Adam said, inclining his head. "He rather has a general problem with his attention. You can catch him by setting an impulse, a story that he finds interesting and then he actually concentrates on listening to the story told – until there is a squirrel hurrying up a tree and setting another impulse. He is unable to not following these impulses and if you want to handle the boy, then you just have to set impulses, and if possible stronger impulses than the ones crossing the boy's ways or he simply will forget about the impulses you have set earlier."

"I surely can't tell him a story to keep him at the task during potions." He growled. He understood what Adam meant, the muggles would call it ADD, Attention Deficit Disorder, but that didn't mean that he liked it. The muggles used medication for that, but he knew that – the child had to learn how to control his impulses instead of following them blindly.

These medication wasn't too bad, he knew that, the Methylphenidathydrochlorid in them had been invented by a Potions Master after all, even if only the muggles named it that. They didn't repress who the children were or their activities, they didn't make them tired or sleepy, nor did they change the children into drooling zombies like many muggles thought, therefore depriving them of the ability to concentrate in school without exhausting themselves, at least not if the dosages were given correctly, they rather helped the children to concentrate and if they could concentrate, then they could control themselves. That was the only reason these children got calmer with medication and surely not because they were sedated.

But he knew that in the long run the children rather should learn controlling their impulses instead of following them, a task neither easy for the children nor for the parents.

In the wizarding world disorder illnesses were very rare and therefore didn't count as an illness to begin with until recently and therefore there were no real therapies or institutions where the children or parents could learn how to deal with it. The children so far were viewed as "difficult children" or "stupid children", their families as anti-social, as minor subjects, and they easily were shoved aside. There only were a few healers meanwhile who really tried to set up therapies that might help and Adam Chandler was one of them.

"Where does it come from?" He asked. "Neither James Potter nor Lily Evans showed any signs of the disorder. Nor did Petunia, never mind how much I disliked the woman to begin with. So where does it come from?"

"Well, the disorder might often be passed down to the children or grandchildren, but that is not a necessity. It also can be that the disorder stems from abuse in the childhood – what would explain the disorder in Harry's case."

"That should make it easier to deal with it, shouldn't it?" He couldn't help asking.

"In one way yes, while in the other way no." Adam answered. "It might seem easier insofar as the disorder is not present and tightened from the moment of conception, it is not in his genes, but it is harder to deal with insofar as the disorder is his way to deal with had been done to him. It is a refuge where his mind can flee into, to dream, to forget, or to prove himself – and to prove himself to you. If he doesn't react, then most likely his mind has shut down and he is dreaming away his worries and his fears, his emotional pain while if he is overactive and daring, he most likely wishes to prove one thing or another to himself or to you."

"I see." He said, understanding that this could be a real challenge the moment the child was well and back to strength. "So, what do you suggest?"

"You offered him therapy once a week on Saturdays?" Adam asked and he nodded.

"He didn't like it, but he accepted it, seeing that Draco, Theodore and Adrian are in this too." He answered. "He is very dependant on his friends, more than any other child I have ever known."

"I take it that the boy didn't have too much friends while living with his muggle relatives." The healer mused and he huffed.

"To my knowledge he hadn't been allowed any friends at all and the only other child living in the household had been overindulged in not only food, shelter and love but in sweets and any other unnecessary things like new computer games every week too, while Harry had been forced to watch his cousin being pampered and loved. The boy hadn't even been allowed to visit school."

"And you wonder that he depends so much on his friends now?" The man now huffed at him. "Of course he does, he is suffering from sever fear of loss, fear of being abandoned by other people, especially those close to him, whether through the people leaving him or dying. He is trying to hold something he'd never had before with both hands, so desperately, as if he tried holding running water in his hands. You won't be able to change that for a long time, Severus, if ever, nor will you be able to change his symptoms of the disorder. And I'm sure that there will be more disorders coming along his way. Two more he suffers from I already can tell you, namely a sleeping disorder and an eating disorder but I guess you already know this. And the more you try to openly change it, the worse you will make it."

"I know." He said. "So what _do_ you suggest?"

"Nothing except of you sending him over for therapy on Saturdays." The man said, smirking at him. "And nothing except of you resting more than you do now."

"My health is none of your business, healer, so you better keep your opinion to yourself." He growled at the man.

"You are correct, Severus." The healer smiled at him. "Your health is none of my business but Harry's health is as well as Draco's, Theodore's and Adrian's. And so you will either rest more than you do so far or I will pull in the ministry, Severus."

"You wouldn't dare …" He hissed angrily.

"You should know me better than that, Severus." The idiot man said and he had to admit that – yes, he should know the man better than that, he'd been in the hands of this man too after all, even if it was a long time ago and so he should know that the man was ready to do anything that would keep the children entrusted to him safe, even if it meant going against their parents.

"And I will fight you with my life if necessary, healer." He hissed back at the man, preparing to leave with Harry.

"I know." The bloody man said. "And that is the difference between you and most of the other parents I have sitting here, they do not care while you do. When was it that you last have taken a look into a mirror, Severus? When was it that you last have cast a diagnostic at yourself? When was it that you last had a decent night's sleep? And when was it that you last did something for yourself like reading a book or going for a walk or even brewing a potion? Anything that would relax you and help you to recover yourself?"

"Like I said, that is none of your business."

"If your own poor health causes you to break down while these children are in need of you, then it _IS_ my business, Professor Snape." The older wizard watched him daringly. "And you either have a – 'babysitter' – scheduled for twice a week and for at least three hours during which you are doing something for yourself, or I will get the ministry into this."

"I won't break down, you imbecile of a healer."

"Still the old temper, and here I heard that you lost it." The man smirked. "Either way, the choice is yours, because you do look ready to drop at every turn you take."

"Dad?" Harry's small voice came from his lap, like it had come back then in the infirmary when he'd had the argument with Poppy. Why did this bloody boy address him with a reproachful "dad" whenever he was in an argument about his own health? "Please?" Was the next thing the bloody boy uttered and he sighed.

"Alright." He gave in while looking down at the child. "For Harry's sake and for his alone, Chandler." He growled. "I will do so and take a babysitter for two hours twice a week, but nothing more and now you surely will excuse us, my son is tired and I'll bring him home."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Of course, Severus." Had been all the bloody healer had said, smirking at him, knowing that he had won and he huffed at even the _reminder_ of it while he landed in their quarters after activating the emergency portkey, Harry being encircled into his arms and into his cloak safely and he kept the boy in the warmth of his cloak for a while longer, casting a warming charm on the living room.

The boy always seemed so cold, there was no warmth in his body and the child had to rely upon his warming charms and thick clothes to keep him warm, something that worried him immensely but it was no wonder, seeing that there simply was nothing on the child's bones that would keep him warm.

"Hi uncle Severus, hi Harry." Draco said, coming closer, followed by some of the others. "How did the examination go?"

"Seeing that the bloody healer annoyed the hell out of me – it did go better than I feared." He said, growling at the boy's chuckling.

"You know, you really have a disturbed relationship with healers, uncle Severus." The boy laughed.

"I'll take you to one next time, boy." He growled, causing the boy in his arms to flinch and he sighed, tightening his grip for a moment. He understood what Adam meant, namely that it was hard to always being there for them, to always trying to remind himself of not using one word or another, like the word _'boy'_ for example, but that didn't mean that the healer could patronize him. He was an adult and he was his own Master after all.

Well, at least had the bloody man had to answer all of the blue stone eater jokes from his son, one by one and whenever he'd asked a question the boy hadn't been ready to answer – that alone was satisfaction enough to him, knowing that Adam Chandler too would have a hard time with this particular child, seeing that he was Harry's therapist.

"Why don't you go to your room, Harry?" He said to the bundle of child that still was hidden beneath his cloak. "I am sure that the parcels from Gladrag have arrived already and they need to be packed into your wardrobe."

"They're here." Adrian piped up. "They've arrived after lunch and I've put them on Harry's bed."

"Dad?" The boy asked, peering forth from the cloak and with a heavy sigh he realized that this started to become a habit, the boy starting any question with a 'dad?'.

"Yes, Harry?" He asked back.

"What do I do now?" The boy asked, green eyes large and unsure.

"You take the clothes from the boxes and put them into the wardrobe." He said, peeling his cloak from the boy.

"But … but how … I've never had enough …" The boy said before stopping.

"You have never had enough clothes to put them into a wardrobe, I know that, Harry." He said, again feeling the fury rising up in him. Of course he knew that Harry had no other clothes than a spare Jeans, the hoodie that was three sizes too large for him and two or three t-shirts that didn't even deserve the name. "Anyway I am sure that you will find a way to get your clothes sorted into the wardrobe, child." He then said, giving the boy a small shove into the direction of his room.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Well, it's been nearly an hour since the boy was gone in his room and he wondered how long it took the boy to get the clothes into the wardrobe. Admitted, yes, the child surely had no practice in this, seeing that he'd never had enough clothes to put away in the first place, and yes, it were a lot of clothes to put away too, but surely it couldn't take the boy that long and with a frown on his face he got off the armchair and went towards his son's room.

He didn't have to open the door. He never had to because the boy always feared closed doors – and he was sure that the boy had feared them even before their imprisonment too, seeing that the Dursleys had locked Harry into a bloody cupboard for days if they deemed it fit.

The boy was sitting on the floor, his back to the bed, his knees drawn close to his chest, and his head resting on top of his arms that laid on his drawn knees. And from the soft sobbing sounds and the slight and irregular shaking of the boy's shoulder, he was crying.

Looking down at the child and watching him for a few seconds he noticed one of the new t-shirts grasped tightly in the boy's fingers, crumbling the material.

"Harry?" He asked, coming closer but gaining no answer from the boy.

"What is wrong, child?" He asked, kneeling down beside his son, at least getting a headshake this time.

"But there _seems_ something wrong, son." He softly said, reaching out and touching the boy's chin, lifting Harry's head so that he had to look at him. The emotional pain and the lack of understanding of the situation he was seeing in his son's eyes once more made him realizing – he needed to visit the Dursleys, not only to collect whatever there might be left at Privet Drive, but to view some memories too, to punish them, and to offer his son a chance to have a closure, even if he knew that the child would never be able to have a normal life like any other child, the Dursleys had robbed this from the child forever.

"Don't know." The boy finally sobbed. "There's no problem at all, sir. I … I have so many new things, a home, a family, my own room, and new clothes, toys and books even and … and a lot of food too, and even if I'm in trouble then I'm not beaten or hungry or locked in my cupboard and … I … I just don't know if I deserve it. Uncle Vernon always said I deserve nothing, but if I don't deserve it, then … then this can't last. You … you've been so good to me and … even though I'm in trouble and … I don't want to … I don't want to like it here, because … because it'll end and then …"

"It won't end, Harry." He said, firmly. "Your uncle lied to you, like he lied in so many things. You do deserve this, all of this, and you will have it as long as you wish to. I gave you this family and home and I won't take this away from you ever. And what do you mean with – even though you're in trouble, Harry? Why would you be in trouble?"

"Cause … 'cause I've said you … 'cause I've said you tricked me, at the hospital." The boy still sobbed.

"That is no reason at all to be in trouble, Harry, not to mention that you actually have been right in the first place, we _did_ trick you." He said, sitting down beside the child and leaning against the bed, pulling the teenager close. "And even if you were in trouble, Harry, then this still would be no reason at all to withdraw food from you, to beat you or to lock you away and I absolutely never will do so."

"I want to believe you so much and I really try to." The boy said, hiding his head in his robes and he ran his hand over the bony back. "But then I'm doing something stupid and I can't help thinking of …"

"It is not your fault, Harry." He seriously said. "You cannot fight against your body's natural reactions that were hammered into your brain by your relatives. It will take time, a lot of time and these reactions of course will surface in situations you're tired or stressed. It is a normal reaction of your body, child, and no reason to blame yourself for anything. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." The boy said. A 'sir' again, of course. Merlin, this child had so many things to deal with – sometimes he didn't know where he even could start.

"Are you ready for a game of pyramids?" He asked, causing the boy to look up at him with a questioning face, what he had wanted, to distract the child before bedtime.

"What is it?" Harry asked, satisfying him with falling for his little trick – again.

"You just put on your pyjamas." He said, getting off the floor and pulling the child with him. "You'll be easier to put to bed later, after you have fallen asleep on me, if you're already in your pyjamas."

"But I'm fourteen!" The boy called out, horrified. "I don't need to be put to bed!"

"It would hardly be the first time that I've put you to bed during the past month, Harry." He huffed at the child's outburst.

"But I'm too old to fall asleep on you!" The boy said.

"And yet, somehow I know that you're going to do just that anyway." He said. "And now you go and put on your pyjamas, Harry."

It was barely ten minutes later that Harry was sitting down beside him on the sofa in their living room while he prepared the game, sticking the pins into the soft board, one pin into one small square on the board so that they formed a ball.

"We have to take pin for pin, never mind which, and move them out of the circle and towards our respectable sides of the board." He explained while the boy pulled up his legs on the sofa, scooting closer to him and the small game so that he could see it better. "That way we both gain the same number of pins and then we have to start forming a pyramid. We only can move a pin over one square and we only can jump over one pin. The first player unable to do his move will lose."

"And what if we don't get all the pins out of the circle?" Harry asked, frowning.

"Well, it's all the way the same, the first player unable doing his move loses." He said, again amazed at the concentration the child could afford if he were interested.

"'k, that won't be too easy." The child said, already staring at the board attentively.

"Hmm, I can see you liking something like this." He mused.

It was barely an hour later that Harry was laying on the sofa, his head resting in his lap, fast asleep, like he had predicted and he smirked while picking the child up and carrying him into his own room, putting him to bed and covering him with a blanket before he sat down into the chair closest to his son's bed, watching his child.

break ... ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ... line

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued<strong>

**Next time in A few days more**

____________Socks, shoes and puzzles____________

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too, thank you …

**House cup: **

At the present time it looks like this:

708 - Gryffindor - Head of House: Catlady

701 - Slytherin - Head of House: evil minded

576 - Ravenclaw - Head of House: Arithmancy Master

340 - Hufflepuff - Head of House: still a free post


	15. socks, mistakes and puzzles

**Title:**

A few days more

Sequel to twenty-one days

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Fourth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

"A few days more" is the sequel to "Twenty-one days" – read and review this first or you wouldn't understand all that happens in this story.

The fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindors have survived their imprisonment in the potions classroom situated in the dungeons. How will they go on in all-day life after their survival? How will they manage to reintegrate into the castle's routine and their classes? How will they be able to go back to life at all? Watch how those who survived fight for their lives and for their peace, for their place in the community at Hogwarts.

**Disclaimer: **

Did you see Severus alive at the end of _'The deathly hallows'_? no?

Do you think I would have had him died if I had written those books? no?

Then you know that _'Harry Potter'_ does not belong to me … nor does Severus … regrettably … he belongs to J. K. Rowling …

But Hereweald Hrothgar does …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Warning:**

Story contains references to child abuse.

Child-abuse is a really serious thing, it is an evil thing and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help without being helped, and closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist, is no solution …

I only say - remind yourself of your feelings, of your sympathy, and of your understanding … and handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once being abused … with understanding and with help …

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me - I am …

* * *

><p>break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line<p>

**Previously in A few days more**

_"We have to take pin for pin, never mind which, and move them out of the circle and towards our respectable sides of the board." He explained while the boy pulled up his legs on the sofa, scooting closer to him and the small game so that he could see it better. "That way we both gain the same number of pins and then we have to start forming a pyramid. We only can move a pin over one square and we only can jump over one pin. The first player unable to do his move will lose."_

_"And what if we don't get all the pins out of the circle?" Harry asked, frowning. _

_"Well, it's all the way the same, the first player unable doing his move loses." He said, again amazed at the concentration the child could afford if he were interested. _

_"'k, that won't be too easy." The child said, already staring at the board attentively. _

_"Hmm, I can see you liking something like this." He mused. _

_It was barely an hour later that Harry was laying on the sofa, his head resting in his lap, fast asleep, like he had predicted and he smirked while picking the child up and carrying him into his own room, putting him to bed and covering him with a blanket before he sat down into the chair closest to his son's bed, watching his child._

**A few days more**

**Chapter fifteen **

**Day fourteen – sixth of October – Sunday **

**Socks, mistakes and puzzles**

Well, of course the boy had fallen asleep on him last night, like so often lately and one should wonder if the child really was a teenager already and not a small toddler. On the other hand – this teenager had missed so much physical comfort, of course he was soaking up _any_ physical comfort he could get now like a sponge. The child had tried to make it alright for his _'family'_, but never mind how hard the boy had tried, it never had been good enough and those people had been good in letting him know just this. Of course the child was in desperate need of catching up on this need of comfort.

He just – never would he have thought that it would be _him_, helping a teenager in catching up on physical comfort, mental comfort, never would he have thought that it would be _him_, giving a teenage boy a family.

Schooling his face into his usual unreadable mask he handed three galleons over to the boy – who looked up at him with large and questioning green eyes, just like he had known the teen would do.

"I … I don't understand, Professor." The boy asked, his voice unsure and soft, incredulous.

Professor.

Of course the boy was back to _'professor'_.

"Your allowance, Harry." He said. "In the wizarding world it is common to provide a child with a few galleons each month or week, dependant on the financial position of the family. And so of course I will provide you with a weekly allowance just like any child would get. It is what you deserve, Harry."

"But … but you already bought …" The boy whispered, green eyes watching him unsurely, startled – scared.

"That what you need has nothing to do with any allowance or reward I set for you, nor with any punishment." He said. "One is what you simply _need_, irrespective of any behaviour you show while the other – reward and any other agreement like your allowance – or any punishment is dependant on your behaviour. And seeing that your behaviour was very well since the beginning of this school year, you _do_ deserve your allowance."

Again it was clearly written in the boy's pale face what he felt, wondering how he could deserve any allowance or reward – while at the same time realizing that he never had gotten such from his aunt and uncle, realizing what he had missed, not only food and care, love, but such things like rewards or an allowance too. He actually could see the wheels in the boy's head turning, could see the disappointment at his relatives in his eyes – until there was the unsureness back, the child wondering how he, Harry Bloody Potter, now Snape, could deserve anything at all and he sighed.

He had hoped that his son would see the difference, and would start seeing not only how much had been denied of him, but how much he had suffered too. But the boy didn't see the difference, not for longer than a short moment in which he felt disappointed at his relatives failing him – no, the boy still thought it was an absolute normal and correct occurrence, his aunt and uncle beating him, starving him, and locking him away, denying him any comfort or assistance.

"I suggest you pack the money into your room and prepare for breakfast in the great hall." He said, calmly.

"But it's Sunday, and you said we could have breakfast here on Sundays." Draco said, frowning at him and he sighed.

"I do remember the agreement we have made earlier in the week, but today is a special day and our presence is required for breakfast in the great hall." He said.

"Why is it a special day, Severus?" Neville asked, the boy sitting beside Draco and he started to see a pattern – Draco and Neville becoming close friends, like Draco, Theodore and Harry while Adrian was clinging to Harry and Miles clinging to Neville. A group of six children that grew closer and closer with each day that passed.

"You will see if you move your backside from that sofa and start walking towards the great hall, Neville." He huffed at the boy. "And preferably before breakfast is over." He added, watching Hermione, Pansy and Millicent getting off the other sofa, quickly, Emma clinging to Hermione like Adrian and Miles were clinging to Harry and Neville.

Vincent and Gregory were both close to the sextet but not really members of the group but rather two autonomic children standing for themselves while Cameron was trying to be closer to the sextet. It was strange – Cameron who always had been very close to his own class, to the children of his age, was now trying to make ground with the fourth and second year students, thus creating one of the strangest mixtures Hogwarts ever had seen while Vincent and Gregory who always had been dependant on Draco now were autonomously acting on their own.

The others had become a light group, mixing with one or another in various combinations, often being seen with either the sextet or the quartet too, except for Ronald and Blaise.

He didn't worry about Blaise, this boy always had been a loner, since his first year at Hogwarts, never belonging to one or another group while he got along with everyone, even with students from other years or houses, and it was the same now, Blaise got alone with everyone while he didn't belong to a group, but the boy was happy the way it was.

It was different with Ronald. Ronald Weasley was like an outcast, the others accepting him in their new house but not trying to befriend him or to integrate him in one or another of their groups and friendships, all of them remembering what the red-haired boy had done to hurt a friend and he himself didn't try to make friends either, keeping to himself. But where Blaise was able to "visit" one group or another, Ronald wasn't and rather reacted with the first signs of depressions.

Well, he knew that he had two choices now, and he knew that he had to act soon – he could either keep Ronald in their house and then he would have to do something that would help the boy finding a new group – what he preferred – or he would have to give Ronald back to Minerva, what most likely only would end in stoking hate. Not to mention that, never mind if he liked the general situation or not, Ronald Weasley was one of them and he belonged in this house here.

He simply would have to find a way to integrate the boy into the house, nearly a mission impossible, nearly, because he wouldn't be Severus Snape if he didn't find a way. He'd had other difficult kids in his care.

With a heavy sigh he followed the children out of their quarters. Blast that idiot minister for magic and blast these idiot headmasters of several magical schools for their idiot decisions.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Good morning, good morning, and what a wonderful morning it is." Albus said upon the great hall being filled to nearly the last seat, a rare occasion on mornings, especially on Sunday mornings.

"Does Professor Dumbledore always have the same greeting on Sunday mornings?" Neville whispered while leaning towards Draco and the Potions Master huffed.

"The headmaster always does have the same greeting upon announcing something he knows the students won't like." He answered the boy's question, shaking his head.

"Great." Harry groaned and he smirked at the boy.

"I have a few announcements to make for this year." Albus started his speech and he leaned back, folding his arms in front of his chest – here it came. "Maybe you all have noticed that no Quidditch training sessions have been scheduled for this school year so far."

"There was no Quidditch while we were … away?" Harry asked, looking up at him incredulously and he nodded his head, seriously this time.

"And even though many of you won't like it, there will be no Quidditch this year at all." Albus said, lifting both his hands before the groans and the startled and shocked gasps coming from the student body could turn into full-throated complaints. "I know, I know, but instead, we will present you with a much more interesting, captivating and magical event – the triwizard tournament."

Many 'ahhh's and 'ohhh's were heard at that while others – the muggle born and the muggle raised children – visibly were at a loss of what the triwizard tournament could be, Harry included.

"A competition between three magical schools in which one representative of each school will have to solve riddles that are designed to test the champions in many different ways, in their magical skill, their daring, their judgment and their ability to cope with danger, and face magical creatures to win the prize of 1.000 galleons and unending fame and glory."

Well, and now it was out, the dangerous secret and he scanned the great hall beneath half lidded eyes, again wondering why Albus would agree to such risks.

Well, Diggory from Hufflepuff definitely looked eager, as did Clearwater from Ravenclaw and Wood from Gryffindor. Derrick and Bole from the Slytherin house too looked definitely interested – as did the Weasley twins and he would have to take a serious word with his apprentices – they were definitely too young for that. He didn't worry too much about the two Slytherins looking interested – he had taught them enough sense so that they would rethink their action twice or even thrice before adding their names, weighing the risks and the fun or fame. The best chances he thought, would be on Wood's side, the young Gryffindor was – except of Harry and Cameron – the best Quidditch player he ever had seen after all but would it be enough to make it through the triwizard tournament?

Diggory too was good, he knew the Hufflepuff Quidditch player from games they had lost against Hufflepuff, but he knew that the boy would have a very hard time to stay alive in that blasted competition, let alone win it. And Clearwater? The girl still looked eager and he was sure – had she had the chance, she would add her name into the goblet immediately.

"So, let us greet the delegation from Beauxbatons under the lead of Madam Maxime …" Albus announced and the double winged doors of the great hall opened, Maxime leading in the girls from her school in France – all in light blue dresses, white and pretty faces and soft bodies. He immediately knew that none of these girls would stand a chance. Not that they would lack the magical abilities, he didn't doubt _that_, but they all lacked the harshness and the roughness needed in such a competition.

He knew Maxime of course, and the giant woman was anything than a harmless giant princess, but she wouldn't be able keeping her girls in a competition like this, not if they had to face dragons and what other dangerous creatures, maybe even death, they would run before the threat.

He noticed Harry making a face at their girlish behaviour and he smirked at the boy while Ronald, Dean and Seamus were melting away at their arrival. He wouldn't have wondered if the red-head had started drooling while he turned his head this way and that way to see better while Hermione gave a huff away followed by a "they're Barbie dolls" coming from Emma.

"… and the delegation from Durmstrang." Dumbledore announced the next arrival, the doors to the great hall opening again and Igor Karkaroff was leading in his students.

Yes, they were more like not only surviving the competition but winning too, the young men looking very much like the Slytherins, rough, dark and determined, while he knew that – just like with his Slytherins – it only was a mask they were showing.

The girls from Beauxbatons had been taking seats at the Ravenclaw and at the Hufflepuff tables while the boys from Durmstrang were looking around darkly. But he knew that the _'looking around darkly'_ was only to conceal their _'looking around unsurely'_ and he cast a small fireball that led them to the Slytherin table.

He watched Karkaroff approaching the head table and Albus, greeting the other wizard with open arms that ended in an embrace and he scrunched his face in disgust at the gesture. He knew that Karkaroff was a show off, a coward and a deceiver, a man that would stab his own brother's back if he could buy his skin with the act. A man that had bought his way out of Azkaban by not only money but by friends and brothers he had sold, even giving false names just to save himself.

"Do you chaf a seat for me, Professor?" Came a hard-edged but soft voice and looking up he noticed one of the Durmstrang students standing at their table, still unsurely. "Thee other table is full."

He cast a quick glance at the Slytherin table, seeing that indeed there was no place left even though there wasn't the full number of children in the house left after the fifth house had been created by Hogwarts, and he inclined his head, moving to his left a bit, closer to Harry and so making space for the boy.

"That … that is … Dean! That's Victor Krum! That's the Bulgarian seeker who played at the Quidditch world cup!" He heard Ronald whispering and he frowned at the Weasley boy who gaped open-mouthed at the new addition at their table.

"And you are acting uncourtly, Mr. Weasley." He calmly said, piercing the boy with one of his more sterner glares and the red-head got his senses back, concentrating back on the situation instead of the Bulgarian Quidditch Celebrity sitting at their table.

"I bid my apology, Professor." Krum said and he frowned. Did everyone he had to deal with have a constant apology on their lips?

"There is no need to apologize, Mr. Krum." He said. "I suggest you take some food and start eating. Knowing Igor Karkaroff, he has been sleeping on this ship of his while you had to sail all the way to the Hogwarts lake by yourself. You must be hungry, eat. That goes for you too." He then added to the other children on his table. "I am sure that whatever the headmaster has to say, you will be able listening while you have your breakfast."

And as if his words had been a command –

"The champions from each school will be selected by the Goblet of Fire." Albus continued in his explanation now that Maxime and Karkaroff as well as the students from their schools were placed. "Any student who wishes to partake in the competition, will have to write their names and their school at a piece of parchment and then drop it into the Goblet of Fire that will be placed in the antechamber beside he great hall, note however, that for safety reasons only students that are seventeen years old or older will be able to partake in the triwizard tournament."

Well, if there had been many groans of displeasure at Albus' announcement about Quidditch being cancelled for the school year – now there was a storm of displeasure ripping through the great hall.

"To make sure that this rule won't be broken, I will draw an age line around the Goblet of Fire the moment the artefact will be placed in the antechamber." Albus continued, ignoring the storm and he made a note to himself too. Albus might cast an age line around the goblet – but he would add an age potion too, just in case. "Also please note, that you should not enter this tournament lightly. It is a dangerous competition and once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is bound to not only enter the tournament but to partake in the tasks until the end, it is a binding magical contract and there can be no reconsider once you have been chosen by the goblet. I therefore ask you to only drop your name into the goblet if you are really prepared to partake in the competition with all the consequences."

Well, at least Albus didn't take this lightly, didn't encourage the students to drop their names into the goblet. That didn't change the fact however that he didn't like the tournament being played at all however. It was a dangerous competition in which children had died in the past and it had been banned with a reason.

"All of you, who are seventeen years old or older, will have a week to drop your name into the goblet." Albus continued. "The goblet will be placed in the antechamber overnight and you will have access to the artefact during the entire next week beginning Monday morning just before breakfast. Next Sunday evening during dinner, the goblet will return the names of the three students which the artefact has deemed most worthy to represent their schools. The students that are chosen to become champions are still bound to partake in classes, but freed from several lessons during the school year – and homework – to prepare for the respective tasks. Seeing that the partakers are seventeen year old young adults, I assume that you are reasonable enough to make your own decisions about missing lessons. That is all for now, so let's have a happy dig into your breakfast."

He couldn't help snorting at yet another ridiculous saying coming from Albus, but then he sighed, watching his children.

"Imagine, everlasting glory and honour." Weasley whispered, the boy's blue eyes glinting in the light cast by the thousands of candles in the great hall.

"I've had enough of that for a lifetime." Harry growled at his friend. "I hope that now, that I'm not Harry Bloody Potter anymore, I will be left alone with all that crap finally."

"But imagine, Harry. all the things you could do if you'd be champion and win that cup." The red-head raved over the thing and he sighed.

"I would prefer the house cup or the Quidditch cup, really." Harry said, concentrating on his food, casting hidden and unsure glances at Krum every now and then while he was sitting there, clearly wanting to cut the slice of toast into half like he always did but not daring encase Krum, who didn't know their eating habits, wouldn't understand while at the same time he simply was unable to take the uncut slice of toast for eating it.

"Seeing that there has been a fifth house added, and seeing that there is a fifth point glass in the great hall too, I am sure that our house, as small as it is, will be partaking in the house cup and now you just cut this slice of toast in half and eat." He said, combining the answer to Harry's unsureness to his spoken thoughts so that Krum wouldn't take too much notice.

But of course the seventeen year old was far more perceptive than that.

"Vy vould the children haf to cuut their toast in half?" Krum asked unsurely looking down at his own toast, clearly wondering if he had to do the same and if he had made a mistake and broken a strange English tradition in not halving his food.

Well, he had two possibilities now – he either could clear the situation now and forever, even if he took risk to drive Harry and a few others into not eating anything at all or he could have more such awkward moments in near future, the Bulgarian boy asking such questions every now and then because he didn't understand.

Well, he would handle it the way he had always handled things, the way he had handled Harry's and Theodore's nightmares back then, when they had been locked down in the dungeons, and taking a sip of his coffee he leaned back in his chair.

Harry had gotten pale, watching him and Krum with his usual unsure and scared eyes whenever there was a situation that was over his head as did Adrian and even Theodore.

"These children here have been starved for a long time due to an accident, Mr. Krum, and some of them had not been provided with much food at home before that either, due to child neglect or child abuse." He started to explain, calmly, trying to ignore the horrified look his son regarded him with and he answered with his own pointing look at Harry's plate, signalling the boy to go on eating. "Some of them, like Harry, nearly died just a few weeks ago and during the time of their imprisonment. They all have developed their own rituals to cope with not only the situation but with the little food that barely kept them alive for weeks and now they have to find their own ways back to a life in freedom and liberty."

Taking a deep breath he looked over the children for a moment, his eyes resting on the disappointed eyes of his son for a moment before he concentrated back on Krum.

"You will stumble over more such situations which you won't understand if you remain sitting with these children." He then said, looking into the boy's dark eyes. "And you will have to accept them with as little fuss and questions as possible to prevent awkward situations that only will make it harder for the children. I also ask you to maintain silence and to respect the privacy of this small house. They will talk to you or any other students the moment they are ready to, but this is in their own decision and until then, it is no business of the entire school."

"Oh." The boy made, looking uncomfortable. "I bid my apology. I did not vant to make anyone feel bad."

"Apology accepted, Mr. Krum." He said, placing the coffee cup back at the table. "And now I suggest you go on eating, that goes for you too, Harry." He then added with another pointed look at the boy. Adrian and Theodore had done just that the moment they had realized that there was no danger and that Severus had the situation under control. Not so his son. Of course not. Of course the boy sat there, like frozen, and he hadn't even taken the knife to cut the toast into his usual two pieces.

Sighing he took the boy's plate and cut the slice in two. He added scrambled eggs and then shoved the plate back to his son.

"Eat, Harry." He said, his own dark eyes resting on the pale face. "There is no need to be scared, you are not alone here and you have all the time you need. We won't run away and leave you alone, and neither will the plate be taken from you before you have finished your breakfast. I am here, child." He then added, softly, causing the boy to take a deep breath and to give a curt nod away before concentrating on the toast.

He knew the reason as to why Harry had so much trouble handling a complete slice of toast – it simply was too large for the boy.

Not generally, a slice of toast generally was not too large for a fourteen year old boy's hands, and it would fit into Harry's hands too, even if the teen was smaller than even Adrian was, but it was because the boy was not used to holding any food in his hands, to holding much food or large food in his hands and the slice of toast simply felt too large for Harry, the boy feeling overwhelmed and assaulted by the food, feeling that he never could manage eating all he held in his hand – and then getting scared by a simple slice of toast.

He was however a Slytherin, and he knew how he had to take his children. He knew that Harry actually melted at his use of the term 'child', that said child reacted to the word. Harry would do everything if he was called a child, or at least he would do his best to please him, Severus, he knew that, and honestly – it was no wonder. This child had never been allowed being a child, neither at home nor at school, so of course he would now long for such a term directed at him. As much as he longed for someone who was there for him, who would stand beside him, who would take care of him.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Harry." He called the boy and his son looked up at him.

It had taken Harry a long time to finally finish his breakfast, longer than usual, but like he had promised, he had been there, as had the others, waiting for him while having fun.

Karkaroff had come to their table at one point during the morning and he had prepared himself for the worst.

Of course he knew Karkaroff from his times as a spy in the Dark Lord's ranks and so he knew that Karkaroff was a Death Eater par excellence – he was no bit happy about his presence at Hogwarts at all and he was just another reason to being angry at Albus for allowing a known Death Eater to enter the school.

**Flashback**

_"Severus, my old friend!" The man called out even before he had reached their table completely and he stood, just in case Karkaroff might get the idea of taking a seat at their table himself. He wanted to prevent that in any circumstance. This man didn't belong at their table and he would not allow him there. "I have missed you at the teacher's table. Is it common now to dine with your students?"_

_"I prefer the students' curiosity to Trelawney's chatter and Moody's lack of table manners." He said, causing Draco to snort and he folded his arms in front of his chest to prevent Karkaroff to embrace him like he had done with Albus – and any other person he knew and called 'my old friend', the imbecile already having lifted his arms for that gesture._

_"Ah, still the misanthrope, I see." Karkaroff laughed. "But admit it, Severus, you have welcomed my students in your house happily."_

_"I am no longer the head of Slytherin, as you surely have noticed, but the head of a new house established at Hogwarts." He growled. _

_"A small house, Severus, they have downgraded you." The imbecile said, nearly sounding accusingly._

_"I have chosen this house as mine, Igor, and I had my reasons." He said, barely able to keep himself from seething at the idiot man. He never really had hated Harry, even back then, during the past three years, it only had been dislike that had started because the boy was James Potter's son and had looked so much like Potter Senior too, but never had he really hated the boy. He however did despise Karkaroff. He despised cowards that would stab and sold their brothers and friends for their own skin and Karkaroff was just that, a coward without one single bone. _

_"Ahhh, very well, Severus." Karkaroff smiled at him, the idiot not realizing the danger he was in. "I see that Victor has found a place at your small table. Maybe you will come and visit me at my ship for a glass of good whiskey while I am here."_

_"Mr. Krum is welcomed at this table, but I doubt that I will visit you, Igor." He said. "I have many obligations here at the castle and I barely have time for my own."_

_"What a shame, Severus." The man still smiled. "But we still have one or another meals together here at your castle and I am sure we will have one or another chat." _

_"I am sure we will, Igor." He said. "If you now excuse me, I still have a few things to care for with my students before lunch."_

_"But of course, of course, my old friend, Victor, come." Karkaroff said, waving his student over and he noticed that the boy only got off the chair with an unhappy sigh, slower than he should and without looking at anyone, only murmuring a soft "good bye" before following his headmaster out of the great hall._

_"He doesn't seem to like his headmaster." Theodore softly said._

_"No, I don't think he does." He answered, his gaze thoughtfully at the double winged doors of the entrance hall through which the two had gone and he was sure that at least Theodore, Draco, Harry, Adrian and Cameron knew what he was thinking. He would have an eye on the situation. _

**End flashback**

"Professor?" Harry's questioning voice got him out of his thoughts.

Of course – another _'Professor'_ instead of a _'dad'_ or at least 'Severus'. It had been a strenuous day so far and Harry was tired – and whenever the boy was tired, he got unsure and scared.

"The headmaster has required our presence, Harry, so let's visit this bloody old fool." He then said, taking a deep breath.

"What does Professor Dumbledore want?" Harry asked, slipping into his shoes and taking the school cloak from one of the hooks which were attached at the hallway wall that led to the children's rooms.

"I have no idea." He answered, watching the boy coming closer and he opened the door, led the child outside into the dungeons corridors. "I suggest we get this visit over with and then we will know more."

"Professor?" The boy asked after a few moments they had walked in silence.

"Yes, Harry?" Looking down he noticed his son walking with his right arm extended towards the wall a bit, not really touching the wall but being close to it, as if searching for support should he fall and frowning he noticed the unsure steps too. Yes, the boy was very tired and it was only one more proof of how weak he still was.

"Have … have I done everything alright?" Harry asked, a question the boy never before had asked and he stopped, halting his son too with a hand on the small and bony shoulder. The boy immediately tensed up, looking up at him with unsure and scared green eyes and he took a deep breath.

"You have done everything correctly, Harry." He answered. Of course he knew that the boy often would have wished to ask this particular question, Harry always fearing that he would make a mistake and disappoint him, his new father, but that he never had dared asking. "You have made absolute no mistake, child, but even _if_ you had, then it would be not the end of the world. You are a child, Harry, despite what people so far have told you or expected of you, you are a child still and as a child you are not only bound to make mistakes but you are allowed to make mistakes too. Let's get walking, Harry." He said, leading the startled boy further towards the entrance hall and the marble staircase that would lead to Albus' office. "We all make mistakes, Harry, not only children but adult and grown people too. We make mistakes and we learn out of our mistakes. If we didn't make a mistake, then we couldn't learn out of them and then we maybe wouldn't know how to react in a dire situation. Just one example: any mother would tell her child to not touch the stove because it is hot. But a child normally _does_ touch the hot plate anyway because in the beginning a child doesn't know what 'hot' means. After the child has burned his hand it knows just that – that a hot plate is hot and that it hurts and that way the child develops the reflex to pull back his hand upon coming close to something hot, or otherwise dangerous thing, an important reflex, and a reflex the person never would have developed without the mistake made in his youth."

The boy stopping beside him caused him to stop too and to look down, just to see his son lifting his own hand, palm up, staring at his palm. Well, so Harry had made the same mistake and had touched the hot stove despite his aunt's warnings, so the boy did have this reflex to pull back his hand.

A moment later however he frowned when he cast his own gaze at the boy's palm and he couldn't help reaching out, taking his son's wrist and pulling his hand closer, with his other hand keeping the boy from closing his own hand and then tightening his grip when Harry tried to pull his hand back.

A child that touched the hot stove would automatically pull the hand back soon enough _before_ it was hurt enough for the skin to get scarred. Harry's palm however _was_ scarred, and not only a bit scarred but the entire palm being scarred, badly scarred, included the fingers and the finger tips, a thick layer of scarred skin and he immediately knew that the contact had not only been for a split second but for many agonizing seconds, maybe even minutes.

Narrowing his eyes and ignoring the startled look on Harry's face he inspected the scarred palm closer, trying to find more, before he took the boy's other wrist, lifting Harry's other hand and inspecting the other palm, the boy's right one. It wasn't burnt.

Lifting his eyes slowly until they met the startled large, green eyes of his son he didn't even have to use legillimence to see and he immediately could see Lily's sister, holding the hand of a small and screaming boy that tried to get free onto the hot plate, screaming at him because he had accidentally burnt the breakfast bacon in the frying pan.

Wordlessly he pulled the boy close and drew his son's head against his chest, holding him in a tight embrace while he needed a moment to get his own emotions back under control.

He knew a lot of abuse, the Death Eaters surely not being gentle with their children and punishment was doled out quickly and severely, without thinking even, them beating their children with canes and whips, not minding drawing blood – but never would they starve a child until said child's metabolism collapsed and never would they hold their children's hands onto a burning plate until the skin was glued to the hot metal and nothing else had it been what Petunia had done.

"Do not mix up my earlier words and what your aunt has done to you into something normal that occurred to many children." He then said, slowly, keeping his voice as calm as possible. "A child that would touch the stove despite the warning from his mother would automatically pull his hand away a moment later and _before_ any harm is done and except of the skin reddening and hurting for a day or two nothing would happen. There would be no injury, there would be no scar and surely not the entire palm being scarred as badly as is yours. What your aunt has done to you, it was child abuse, and do not say it was not because it was. It was inhuman and clearly forbidden, and she will pay for what she has done. No, Harry, do not look so startled." He then added when the boy looked up at him with his eyes going large again and he pulled the boy's head back against his chest. "Do not for one moment think that I won't have her standing account for her actions, or your uncle. They need to be punished and I will see it done. And for no moment think that you have to always make sure you won't make a mistake, because I will never punish you for a simply mistake and surely not with such cruelly."

He scowled at a fourth year Hufflepuff who had lost his way and landed himself near the dungeons corridors, gaping at him open-mouthed upon seeing him cradling Harry to his chest in a tight embrace, running his hand over the teen's back to give what comfort he was able to give, but he refused to let go of his son right now. He would give the idiot boy a punishment that would make sure he never ever again lost his way and landed himself close to the dungeons except for potions or detentions with him.

He waited until the idiot student was gone before he tightened his embrace for a moment and then released the boy that had become his son so quickly and so completely. He knew that the boy had cried for a moment but he didn't comment on it. He didn't comment anything else at all while leading him through the entrance hall and towards the gargoyle that guarded the headmaster's office.

"Milky way" He said with a suffering sigh at the yet another favourite sweet from Albus.

A moment later the stony stairway turned to bring them upwards in a constant spiral. He normally would speed up the process in climbing the moving staircases too, but now, with Harry, he just waited until they had reached the top and therefore Albus' office, having an arm lightly laying around his son's shoulders.

"Severus, Harry, nice to see you." Albus greeted them upon their entering, smiling at them happily. "Take a seat, both of you. I've never congratulated you two for becoming a family but well, better late than never, isn't it? Lemon Drop?"

"Thank you, Albus, but no." Severus declined and he smirked when Harry shook his head too. "There is something you wanted to discuss with us?"

"Straight to the point, Severus, like always." Albus sighed. "Can't an old man have a simple conversation with his favourite teacher and his favourite student?"

"I do know you better than that, Albus." He huffed at the old man. "If you wanted small talk, then you would have come down to the dungeons and visited us in our quarters."

"I am an old man, Severus, and you have cut off any shortcut that would lead to your quarters." Albus said, looking at him accusingly like a small child that was chided and taken away his favourite toy. "At least those known to us and walking down all those stairs afoot, I am too old for that, my old bones wouldn't manage. Surely you wouldn't want me to die at a heart attack."

"You are far from risking a heart attack by climbing stairs, Albus." He scowled. "And concerning your old bones, I am even sure that in a race from your office to the lowest part of the dungeons and back, with one or another student, you easily would win. So – what is it you have asked us into your office for?"

"You are no fun, Severus, not a bit." Albus smiled, winking at Harry and he shook his head.

"Have I ever made the impression that I would like being fun, Albus?" He asked in his most suffering tone of voice, causing Harry to smile. It wasn't a laugh like he had planned, but it was a smile and that was better than nothing at all.

"Of course not, Severus, your reputation does fit you very well." Albus said, smiling too and he took a deep breath to calm his temper. "But well, let us get to the reason of your presence. You do remember, Harry, that Sirius Black is your godfather, don't you?" The old coot then asked, leaning forwards in his chair and gazing at Harry intently.

Black.

Of course Black would appear at one point or another.

"Yes, sir." Harry softly said, clearly sounding unsurely and with a raised eyebrow he looked over at the child.

The boy definitely looked uncomfortable, scared, and he wondered about the reason as to why. To his knowledge Harry had gotten along rather well with the mutt, risking not only being expelled but a stay in Azkaban or even death by saving the imbecile's backside. Alright, they wouldn't have put a thirteen year old in Azkaban, but he had risked clearly a lot of trouble. So – why did the boy now seem to fear the mentioning of Black?

"Well, your godfather has demanded to see you, Harry." Albus said and he could feel Harry going tense at the headmaster's words.

"I don't think that the mutt has the right to – _demand_ – anything, Albus." He softly said, slowly, his senses on alert. He didn't like the way Harry tensed at the mentioning of his god-mutt.

"Please, Severus." Albus chided. "Sirius Black is his godfather and the boy needs him in his life."

"Professor?" Harry's voice – Harry's clearly scared voice – kept him from giving away an acerbic remark. "Dad?"

"What is it, son?" He asked, exactly knowing the reason why the boy – for once – dared adding a 'dad' to the 'professor' upon a situation in which he felt unsure of his situation or position.

"I … I don't want to be ungrateful, and … and I really like Sirius … but … I mean … I do have _you_, haven't I?" The boy asked with a soft voice. "And … I don't really know how to balance another adult in my life. I … I don't … I have _you_, haven't I, dad?"

Well, the need the boy expressed with this simple question was so clear as if he had screamed it out and taking a deep breath he pulled the child close again until the thin upper body rested against his chest.

And even despite this need he was worried that he would lose Harry to the mangy mutt. He knew that he should trust into the relationship with the green-eyed child that was his son, because of that need, but he was scared.

"Of course you do have me, you foolish child. Think of Black as an eccentric uncle, Harry, you may listen to his stories, but you should never get too emotional over him because then he only would hurt you the moment he will leave you upon a woman's skirt or a snitch crossing his way. _And_ you will be in real trouble with your father if you ever try to follow his steps as they only would lead you into danger – what the end of last year had been proof of." He said in a stern tone of voice but without releasing his son. "And you, Albus, I am perfectly willing for Harry to have a closer relationship with Black as an uncle, but nothing else and surely I will not give up Harry as my son for anyone, just to make this clear from the beginning on."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"You look tired, Harry." He said the moment they came back to their quarters, looking the boy up and down critically. "Anything I should know about?"

"No, sir." Harry answered, sounding as tired as he looked. "I'm just … it's been a long day and so many things have happened today. Students from two other schools, and I don't like this headmaster from Durmstrang. And then Krum sitting at our table. And now Sirius wanting to see me. I don't know what to think, and I'm scared, dad."

"He wishes to see you but he won't be able to harm you, child." He said, realizing how desperate the child had to be if he used yet another 'dad' upon the unsure and for the boy scary situation. "And Karkaroff can't harm you either, he doesn't even live in the castle but on this ship of his, not to mention that he is too much a coward to try anything with my son. If you like to fear something, then you better fear my wrath if you don't stop worrying, I'm far more dangerous than is Karkaroff – or Black." He added, smiling, running his hand through the boy's hair. "Why don't you put off your shoes so that you can get comfortable in front of the fire and to enjoy the remainder of the evening?"

Barely ten minutes later they settled down in front of the fireplace, the room being silent except of the soft murmur coming from one or another of the children, except of the soft rustling of a paper being turned in Hermione's or Emma's book and except of the softly crackling flames in the fireplace. The last hour in the evening always was the most peaceful one, the children calming down in their home, getting comfortable and sitting together in perfect harmony, without much fuss and arguments, understanding each other in silence, with a gaze or a single gesture only.

He could watch Diagon laying near one child or another, dependant on which child seemed to need him most, calmly too. The blasted animal was playing during the early morning hours, waking the children – and him – one by one by trying to catch their hair that moved in the soft breeze of their breathing or by nibbling on a finger or toe that looked forth from beneath a blanket. Yesterday morning – at five – the bloody thing even had nibbled at his nose and he rather harshly had shoved it off his bed.

It also was active during the night of course, but luckily not in their quarters. He didn't know _how_ the bloody – _cat_ – was able to leave their quarters – or to come back for that matter – but, and as young as Diagon was, the animal was on the hunt during the night already, he knew that.

In the evening hours however, the large baby cat – and yes, it still was a baby cat and he was sure that Harry would be an old man the moment Diagon finally would be a grown predator – was reacting to their calmness, snuggling close to one child or another and at its best trying to catch a moving toe or a turning page, a moving quill with movements of a tired and lazy paw. Normally.

Right now however, he barely was able to suppress the smile that over and over again threatened to break through his stern mask.

Harry had settled down on the floor near the fire where he had spread his latest challenge. During their outing yesterday they had been to muggle London shortly because he had been running out of coffee and honestly, the only thing he would get in wizarding London was tea – all sorts of tea and definitely tea he liked too, but he just needed a cup of coffee first thing in the morning and there was no place in wizarding London where he could get this. So they had been to a small shop in muggle London.

While he had gone to select his favourite blend of coffee Harry had gone to look around and in the end he had found the boy standing in front of a carton with a picture of a house in a clearing in the midst of a forest, with a small river running between the trees and with a narrow path. There had been the edge of a lake in one part of the picture and at the upper border there had been mountains. The house itself had been a beautiful house with flowers shining in the sunset and with a softly sloping roof made of grass, with a font and a fence.

He hadn't known why the boy would stand in front of the carton, looking at it so longingly, but when Harry had noticed him, had turned and smiled up at him, ready to leave the shop without buying anything like he had done in all the other shops, not even asking if he could have it, he simply had bought the carton. Only then had he realized that there had been something inside the carton, but well, he guessed that Harry would know what it was, seeing that he had looked at it so longingly.

And right now the boy was sitting on the floor, with hundreds of small pieces that were scattered all over the floor, while Diagon seemed to have fun hitting with his claws at one or another of the pieces, always eyeing the boy out of the corner of his eyes, always jumping back or changing tactic and trying to catch Harry's fingers whenever the boy tried to shoe him away from his task.

**Flashback**

_Light shining through the gap of his ajar door woke him and sighing he wondered which child was unable to sleep now, deep down knowing that most likely it would be either Harry or Cameron, both children having serious sleeping disorders and he slipped into his night-robe, left his bedroom and entered their parlour. A moment later he stopped in his tracks. _

_Harry was sitting on the floor in front of the fire, hundreds of pieces that had been the picture of the carton laying on the floor in front of him while Harry himself didn't seem to mind and he nearly held his breath with worry. What in Merlin's name had happened that might have caused Harry to destroy the picture into thousands of tiny pieces? The child was no child that mishandled things or destroyed anything but a child that handled things with care and respect, so what had upset him so much so that he would destroy the picture he had loved so much? _

_"Harry?" He softly asked, kneeling down beside the boy, preparing himself to find a teary face but instead he found a pale but calm face looked up at him, questioningly. "What happened?"_

_"Just couldn't sleep." The boy softly and calmly answered and he frowned. _

_"But what happened so that you destroyed the picture?" He then asked, but this time it was Harry who looked up at him, frowning before the boy looked back at the destroyed picture – and then smiled at him. Smiled, the imbecile!  
><em>

_"It isn't destroyed." Harry answered, and he shook his head, not understanding. It clearly was destroyed, into thousands of tiny pieces! They were laying there in front of them! "It has to be like this, dad, it's a puzzle and the pieces are all different in size and form. You have to put it together so that they form the picture."_

_Alright so – that was the reason as to why there was "1000 pieces" written on the carton. He already had wondered about that. _

_"Thousand pieces, and you have to put them back together into the picture?" He asked, at a loss about why anyone would want to sit down and repair a broken thing by hand, piecing it together slowly and bit by bit instead of using a single reparo charm, but as Harry seemed to be very calm despite the boy having been unable to sleep – he didn't mind. _

_"I could help you with a simple spell, Harry." He offered, frowning. Harry should know the reparo by now, in his fourth year, but then – the boy was muggle raised, he was not used to doing things the magic way in general and he knew that many muggle raised children often started to use magic intuitively only if they got older, if they became young adults and got out of the influence of their muggle parents. _

_Harry however looked startled at him, shaking his head. _

_"Please not, dad." The boy said. "It's meant to being pieced together by hand. You have to find the pieces and put them where they belong. You have to use your eyes and your hands, and your mind to find the pieces, it's like a game."_

**End flashback**

Well, he had let the child and he had looked on for some time while Harry had started to build the defect picture back together, trying to set the frame of the entire work until he had all the border pieces pieced together and the boy had since continued with his task, working on the picture every now and then for a few minutes and he noticed that indeed the child calmed down upon his task, something he would keep in mind.

Watching the boy working his way through the pieces he noticed two different ways to do such a thing. Sometimes Harry was picking a few pieces and looked them over more closely before he would choose one and insert it into the place where it belonged to, and at other times Harry picked one single piece and tried it at one or another place – and mostly he was correct in his guesses of which piece would fit in where.

So well – if this was what the child needed to get calm, then he would buy any puzzle available for the boy.

If only it would help with the mixed socks the child was wearing – again.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

It was later in the night when he silently entered Harry's room to look at the child and pulled the blanket over his son's shoulder. He took the boy's foot that was looking forth from beneath the blanket and shoved it back under the blanket – again noticing that – Harry was wearing mixed socks, despite now having enough socks in pairs.

He didn't mind the child wearing socks in bed at all, Harry was cold enough all the time and any warmth that was not a warming charm and therefore magic used on the child was welcomed to him, but why would the child still wear mixed socks?

The first thing Harry had done upon coming home last night and after his clothes being placed in the dresser had been throwing out his cousin's old clothes and he had watched the child's face while doing so – it had been as if the child had left part for part of his past behind, as if he had gotten rid of a heavy weight that had pulled him down, and so he had been sure that the boy would be happy having complete socks in pairs finally.

Shaking his head he made sure that Adrian too was covered well before he left the room and went back to the parlour, sitting down in his armchair by the fire, unable to sleep right now.

He had been to Albus' office again, just half an hour ago, after the headmaster had met him in the antechamber where he had poured an age potion into the goblet, asked him over for a moment and he had – met the mutt and his wolf.

**Flashback  
><strong>

_"Severus, please take a seat." Albus said before he could lose his temper and say something that was not appropriate. "Upon your agreement of Harry seeing his godfather, I just wished to inform you about Sirius and Remus living at the castle for a while so that it might be easier for them to meet. You know that the ministry still is in search of Sirius."_

_"What do you mean – they are living at the castle?" He asked, narrowing his eyes. "I have not agreed to Black living that close – nor to Harry meeting with the wolf!"_

_"Severus, take reason." Albus said. "It will be much easier …"_

_"Absolutely no, Albus!" He growled. "The agreement was that I would allow Harry to visit his god-mutt, the agreement was that I still brew the wolfsbane potion for Lupin even though he doesn't teach here at Hogwarts anymore, which I have, but the agreement was not that I would allow my –" hesitating for a moment he took a deep breath before he continued. "The agreement was not that I would allow the brat to visit a dangerous werewolf."_

_"You have no authority to demand anything, Snivellus!" Black growled at him._

_"Actually, I do have the authority." He calmly answered, smirking at Black's shocked face._

_"What?" The idiot dog asked. "What right would you have? He isn't your son or your ward, just one of your students and he isn't related to you at all. You're not even his head of house! What are you to him, Snape? What right do you have over him? I don't see even a reason for you to be here to discuss this!"_

_"I have every right!" He said, getting off the chair. "Because actually, I am his father – not to mention his head of house!"_

_"You … you … you are not, Snape!"_

_"I fear Severus is correct, Sirius." Albus said, trying to smooth the situation before it would go out of hands. "Severus has adopted Harry."_

_"Adopted … you had no right to do such a thing, Snape."_

_"You are wrong, Black, because I did have this right." He calmly answered. "Harry himself gave this right to me the moment he asked me to. I am the only person who has ever looked out for the safety and for the best interests of that boy, even if I have never before shown it, but it has been me who had been running after him and who had kept him alive over and over again during the past three years."_

_"James and Lilly looked out for his interests, Snape, long before you …"_

_"And now they're dead, aren't they?" He asked, lifting his eyebrow at the mutt taking a step towards him and Lupin having to keep him back. He did not back away and he nearly smiled at Black's anger. "That boy has no one else who wanted him, so I took him as my son."_

_"You know that I …"_

_"You have offered him a home even though you didn't have one, Black, without knowing anything about his background, a stupid thing to do that only had disappointed him the moment it has been impossible for you to take him and he had to go back to his relatives." He said. "But have you looked out for him during the holidays? Have you checked up on him if he was well cared for during the holidays? No, Black, you have not or the child would have been more healthy when he came back to Hogwarts. You are barely able to look out for yourself let alone for a child, Black."_

_"I wasn't able to …"_

_"And you are not able now either." He said. "You are a wanted convict still. How often do you wish to hurt him again?"_

_"Even if Sirius can't take Harry, I could …"_

_"You!" He hissed at the wolf. "What have you done for the boy except of offering him a smile and a bar of bloody chocolate? You never checked up on him either, not once in twelve bloody years and even though you had the boy under your very nose for nearly an entire year – you have not really seen him or you would have noticed that he was ill, wolf! You are so much centred around yourselves, both of you, pitying yourselves, you do not really think of the child and what you would do to him if you hurt him further, but only at yourselves. And now I bid you a good evening, gentlemen, because I have a son to look after before I retire for the night."_

**End flashback**

break ... ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ... line

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued<strong>

**Next time in A few days more**

_____________another week starts and the trouble begins ... :D ..._____________

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too, thank you …

**House cup: **

At the present time it looks like this:

708 - Gryffindor - Head of House: Catlady

701 - Slytherin - Head of House: evil minded

576 - Ravenclaw - Head of House: Arithmancy Master

340 - Hufflepuff - Head of House: still a free post


	16. shoes, socks and something else

**Title:**

A few days more

Sequel to twenty-one days

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Fourth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

"A few days more" is the sequel to "Twenty-one days" – read and review this first or you wouldn't understand all that happens in this story.

The fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindors have survived their imprisonment in the potions classroom situated in the dungeons. How will they go on in all-day life after their survival? How will they manage to reintegrate into the castle's routine and their classes? How will they be able to go back to life at all? Watch how those who survived fight for their lives and for their peace, for their place in the community at Hogwarts.

**Disclaimer: **

Did you see Severus alive at the end of _'The deathly hallows'_? no?

Do you think I would have had him died if I had written those books? no?

Then you know that _'Harry Potter'_ does not belong to me … nor does Severus … regrettably … he belongs to J. K. Rowling …

But Hereweald Hrothgar does …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Warning:**

Story contains references to child abuse.

Child-abuse is a really serious thing, it is an evil thing and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help without being helped, and closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist, is no solution …

I only say - remind yourself of your feelings, of your sympathy, and of your understanding … and handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once being abused … with understanding and with help …

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me - I am …

* * *

><p>break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line<p>

**Previously in A few days more**

_"That boy has no one else who wanted him, so I took him as my son."_

_"You know that I …" _

_"You have offered him a home even if you didn't have one, Black, without knowing anything about his background, a stupid thing to do that only had disappointed him the moment it has been impossible for you to take him and he had to go back to his relatives." He said. "But have you looked out for him during the holidays? Have you checked up on him if he was well cared for during the holidays? No, Black, you have not or the child would have been more healthy when he came back to Hogwarts."_

_"I wasn't able to …"  
><em>

_"And you are not able now either." He said. "You are a wanted convict still. How often do you wish to hurt him again?"_

_"Even if Sirius can't take Harry, I could …"_

_"You!" He hissed at the wolf. "What have you done for the boy? Offering him a smile and a bar of bloody chocolate? You never checked up on him either, not once in twelve bloody years and even though you had the boy under your very nose for nearly an entire year – you have not really seen him or you would have noticed that he was ill, wolf! You are so much centred around yourselves, pitying yourselves, you do not really think of the child and what you would do to him if you hurt him further, but only at yourselves. And now I bid you a good evening, gentlemen, because I have a son to look after before I retire for the night."_

**A few days more**

**Chapter sixteen **

**Day fifteen – seventh of October – Monday **

**Shoes, socks and something else**

"Harry, do you think I have chosen safe footwear that covers your ankles without a reason?" He couldn't help asking Monday morning, just the moment they reached the great hall for breakfast. It wasn't the first time that he saw Harry wearing his shoes with his laces open – but not just open as in _'they got loose and then came undone again'_. No, the boy had stuffed the open laces sideways into his shoes – and not for the first time.

He had seen it for the first time yesterday morning after they had left the great hall, but he had said nothing to it, seeing that they had been close to their quarters where Harry would get off his shoes anyway. Next time he had seen it, was on their way to Albus' office and he had told the boy to tie his shoe laces. Harry had told him that yes, he would do so in a moment when they reached the Headmaster's office where he could sit down. He hadn't paid much attention to Harry having tied his laces or not afterwards because he had been a bit distracted by the subject they had just discussed with the blasted old man – about the mutt and the wolf.

And now again this morning.

"Uhm – no, sir?" The boy looked up at him, unsurely, questioningly.

"If I remember it correctly, then I already yesterday have asked you to tie your shoe laces, Harry." He said. "And now they are open again and do not tell me that they came undone by themselves, seeing that they are simply stuffed into your shoes."

"Uhm – well, it's been a bit hectic this morning." The boy slowly answered and he immediately knew that it wasn't the entire truth.

"Tie them now." He simply said upon reaching their table, knowing that making a fuss only would draw attention what surely was not in Harry's interest.

"'k" The boy answered, sitting down and he concentrated onto the children starting their breakfast, taking oat flakes and milk or toast and marmalade. He had started allowing them to eat what they wanted, provided that they ate reasonably and together. Most of them had overcome their stomach cramps or being ill after meals, had gotten used to food again, even if they still ate smaller portions than they had done last school year after all. Anyway he kept an eye on their eating habits, better safe than sorry, he always said, but it wasn't necessary anymore to watch them like a hawk. He only had to have a really closer look at Harry, Theodore and Adrian, maybe even at Draco.

Surely it wasn't that they didn't _want_ to eat, but they still were too unwell to have really healthy portions and Harry sometimes even still lost his meals shortly after – not to mention that having a meal in the great hall was strenuous for the child, mentally strenuous – added to lessons, their physical exercises and going through an entire day – of course it was pulling on the boy's strength so that what little he ate was undone by all that.

But well, he had known that Harry's health would be much, very much slower than the health of the others, because none of them had been as weak as had been Harry, none of them had been starved as long as had been Harry and none of them had been so close to death as had been Harry.

And speaking of the boy – Harry hadn't taken anything for breakfast yet.

Looking down at the boy on the bench beside him, he noticed that – Harry still was busy with trying to tie his laces, one foot pulled up at the bench and having two loops of the shoe laces in one hand, trying with the other to somehow wind the other lace around them. He could see the boy's fingers trembling worse than they normally did and he was sure, would Harry look up now, then he would see a pale face with dark red cheeks and green eyes that held tears.

"Why don't you just put them back into your shoes." He gently suggested, resting his hand on the boy's back. "Right now it is time for breakfast. We will care about these laces of yours after that and during potions."

Well, the boy didn't give him an answer but he nodded his head, got his foot down from the bench and then started taking food – a bit. Of course, just a bit.

"Do you remember the first math lesson you and I had a few weeks ago, Harry?" He asked, scooping more oat flakes into the boy's bowl. Harry just nodded, not looking at him. "Then I am sure you also remember that it was not the end of the world, the fact that you were unable solving an arithmetic problem. We solved the issue by showing you how it was done and now you are able to. The same it is with this here. I simply will show you how it is done and then you will be able tying your shoes by yourself in future. And now eat."

Again there was only a nod and he sighed, barely able to imagine the shame – misplaced shame – the boy must feel at yet another – _'failure'_ – as his relatives surely would tell him, would _beat_ into him.

With nearly a smirk he watched Adrian, who sat beside Harry, leaning closer, running his arms around Harry's arm and whispering into his ear "I can't tie my shoes either, don't worry."

"Very good." He smirked, enjoying the startled look from Adrian who clearly had hoped that he hadn't heard the comment. "Then I have two students now whom I can torture with tying lessons."

"Just great." Both children groaned out loud, but at least Harry was smiling again, nothing else had he wished for.

"I suggest you all pack these cereal bars for later." He said, waving his hand and a box with cereal bars appeared on the breakfast table.

While the children each took one of the bars he noticed that Krum was rather quiet this morning, but he didn't comment on it, knowing that most likely the boy was just tired on this first morning in the week.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Potions hadn't been too easy and he'd had to remind himself a few times that it wasn't Harry's fault. Adrian had gotten the hang of tying his shoes rather quickly, but Harry had tried and tried, but somehow his fingers had done different things than his brain wanted them doing.

Not too surprising, seeing that the boy suffered from a right-left confusion – anyway, it wasn't easy watching the boy struggling with the laces. He even had been suggesting the boy wearing shoes without laces at all when Harry had been close to tears again, even though he knew that this wouldn't solve the problem at all.

A real help had been Cameron.

The boy had been coming over from his cauldron after his potion had been finished, the sixth year student of course being quicker than the fourth years.

**Flashback**

_"Know what's green, and big, and eats stones?" The boy asked, clearly out of pure frustration and most likely in hopes to deflect the subject enough to stop this struggle, his voice trembling with barely kept tears. _

_"The big, green stone eater of course." He sighed. "Is there one in every color? Let us continue this without distraction, Harry."_

_"No, it isn't, sir." The boy answered, looking up at him hopefully and he leaned back, tiredly. Merlin, why didn't he just buy shoes without laces for the boy! This here was nonsense. The potions class was over soon and Harry still was unable to tie his shoes, completely and utterly unable. _

_He should have realized that there were things that were important for the boy to learn and then it was worth the time spent learning it but there also were things that were simply unimportant. The teen didn't need the ability of tying his laces, it was no vital ability. _

_"Then what is it, Harry?" He asked, giving in. Harry didn't manage this and forcing the boy to struggle with something he wouldn't need anyway, that was just plain stupid. _

_"Well, it's not the big, green stone eater, sir." Harry looked up at him with a mixture of a smile and his usual unsureness, as if he wanted to smile, knowing that he had won, that he, Severus, had given in, but didn't dare to. "It's the big, blue stone eater, but someone dropped a bucket of green paint into the hole."_

_"Why not a bucket of green paint, of course." He sighed. How many of these ridiculous stone eater jokes could his son come up with until he was old and grey? "Why do we not simply buy shoes without laces?" He asked, knowing that his son had won. _

_He wouldn't give in so easily, not normally, but there were so many things that were more important right now, more vital even …_

_"What … no!" The boy that was his son exclaimed, startled, back to being scared even. "No … I'll learn it, I promise, please, you don't have to buy even more things now, you've bought enough already and … and I can learn it, I … I promise … I _… _please _…_"_

_"Stop!" He growled. "First, you will calm down … take a deep breath _… _good … because I would not mind buying them. I am not a simple potions teacher but I am the Potions Master and the head of a house at one of the best wizarding academies worldwide, so I can afford a pair of shoes for you. And second, you are correct, you could learn it, with enough time and effort. But before you overstrain and exhaust yourself on something like this, there are much more other things on the list to do that are much more important than learning something that is as unimportant as is tying your shoes. Just for example, like gaining weight, and like getting used to more food, or like working on your sleeping disorder, like working on your strength and general health, including your muscles and organs that are not working the way they ought to. In other words, Harry, as much as I would normally not give in upon such, I do now because I know how unimportant it is in the face of other things that could become life threatening if forgotten. Is that understood?" _

_"But I can learn …"_

_"And I just told you that I know you could but it is not necessary to load yourself with learning something as unimportant if there are more vital things to learn." He said, having a hard time to not snap at Harry. Of course he knew that it wasn't Harry's fault, that Harry only tried to please him in doing his best, but the boy's persistence was annoying anyway. _

_"Sir?" Came Cameron's soft voice from his left and he looked up at the boy who had approached him. "If I may be of help? You're explaining this too complicated, sir."_

_What was there to explain the wrong way? He had told Harry that there were more important things than tying his shoes, things that were important for his life, and the issue with the laces was over in his opinion. Anyway, wordlessly – but with a huff – he got off the bench he had been sitting at with Harry. _

_Too complicated! Adrian already had learned how to tie his laces after a few minutes, had tied them a few times now, not so Harry and he had been sitting beside the boy, trying to show him how it was done but Harry's fingers simply didn't do the job his brain wanted them to. _

_But well, maybe Cameron had more luck. He long ago had learned that even though he was a teacher and even though he was a head of a house, sometimes the children amongst each other could explain things easier than did he, even if in his eyes he did it the easier way. _

_Cameron sat down beside Harry, opening his own laces._

_"It's actually quite easy." The boy said and he huffed again. Of course it was easy, but not for Harry "Look, you're taking one lace and form a rabbit's ear, then you take the second lace and form the second rabbit's ear, see, like this. And then you just make a knot into them because the rabbit has been eavesdropping on you and your friend sharing secrets. Exactly like that, Harry." Cameron added, looking up at him with a satisfied smirk and got off back to his own table to clean up his working station. _

_A rabbit – with two ears – eavesdropping …_

_But the smile on Harry's face who undid the laces and then – slowly and awkwardly – did this rabbit-ear-thing again, it was enough for him to give a relieved sigh. _

_"I do thank you, Cameron, for your support." He said, inclining his head towards his oldest student who grinned openly at him. _

_"See, dad?" Harry said, enthusiastically after he had redone the laces again, showing him his shoe and where the boy's face just moments ago had been so sad and tired and miserable – it now was a happy face, eager to show him what he had learned and he realized another thing._

_"Yes, I see, child." He said, looking down at the boy and running his hand through the black hair._

_This boy was happy to learn things, any things, even if it was something ridiculous like tying his laces, but he wanted to learn – he just had never gotten the chance to learn, he never had been allowed to learn and even here at Hogwarts the boy had either struggled to catch up on the small things any child would have learned in pre- and primary school or he had tried to set his standard on Ronald so he wouldn't get punished for doing better._

_With a frown he checked the texture of the boy's hair between his fingers while running them through the black hair. Had the boy's hair become longer? It was definitely longer, of course, hair was growing after all, but it was longer than it should be after five weeks of school. It nearly reached the boy's shoulders._

_"Why don't you all take your cereal bars and start eating?" He gently said. The boy's hair always had been a mess, always had done what it wanted without obeying a brush, fingers or the rules of nature. "All of you. The lesson ends in fifteen minutes and I would like you having eaten your bars before that."_

_"I haven't finished the potion yet, sir." Neville said, looking up at him unsurely and he went towards the boy and his cauldron._

_"At what step are you now, Neville?" He calmly asked, causing Augusta's grandson to look up at him startled. Well, apparently he still could startle them, good. The boy had surely expected a typical Potions Master remark.  
><em>

_"I have added the bark from the birch." The boy said, still unsurely. "There are still two steps missing."_

_"Cast a stasis spell, Neville, and then you will be able finishing it in the evening." He suggested._

_"Uhm, we didn't learn stasis spells yet, sir." The boy said, unsurely, clearly waiting for an acerbic remark from him. _

_"Try arresto momentum, Neville and wave your wand clearly at your cauldron or you would set a stasis at the entire classroom, including myself so that I couldn't undo the damage."_

_"Uhm, won't you do this, sir?" The teen asked, startled. "I guess that would be much safer then."_

_"I am sure that you will be able casting the spell at your cauldron without freezing all of us, Neville." He said, shaking his head and walking towards the front of the classroom, clearly showing that – no, he wouldn't let the boy out of this. "And even if – I am also sure that Albus could undo the damage if you don't show up at transfiguration – after he had taken a picture of the situation." He added with a groan. _

_Only two minutes later Neville was sitting with them, having cast the spell. _

**End flashback**

"You have had a strenuous day, Harry, please do take a rest." He said.

Transfiguration hadn't been too much a struggle, seeing that Minerva still stuck to theoretical lessons, something he was very grateful for. The children, most of them at least, were still not well enough for using too much magic and he was glad for any teacher seeing reason and doing theory instead of having the children using their wands. Not to mention that Minerva as well as Filius had told him – they found that it was very fortunate, doing so, just discussing theoretical things with the students. They seemed to learn new sides on their students and they seemed to learn how their brain worked – he could have told them just that before.

"I'm just doing the puzzle, dad." The boy softly said, yawning. "That's not strenuous."

"Not physically strenuous, but mentally, Harry, and as much as I might be glad about the puzzle calming you, you need to rest your mind too." He said. Lunch had been a calm affair and he had noticed that again, Krum was very quiet, but he hadn't thought much of it. The seventeen year old student surely had other things on his head than chatting with their group – other things like his name in the goblet, where he surely already had put it.

In his free period Harry had been reading a book, but every now and then he had gone into the corridor where the children kept their shoes and he had just taken his shoes, opening the laces and re-doing them the way Cameron had showed him, smiling each time.

He didn't like the fact that Harry was practically running back and forth between the parlour and the corridor every few minutes, unable to concentrate onto his book, but if this made him happy, then be it. The child had been very tired already during dinner and the PE lesson had been a small disaster, the teen laying on the mats more often than not after stumbling over his own feet and he couldn't help being glad that he had covered the entire floor of the hall with the mats instead of only around the equipment.

Knowing that it would only do more harm then good if he pulled the boy out from the lesson for today however, he had allowed him to go on – and fall on, each time worrying over broken bones or yet new bruises.

"But I'm not thinking at all." The boy frowned, looking up at him puzzled, clearly not understanding.

"Not consciously." He said, kneeling down beside his son and taking a piece of puzzle. "But unconsciously your brain is more busy than if you just thought about something. All these small pieces, your eyes – which are not only tired but bad enough too, to begin with – have to look for all the small details, your fingers have to grip them and to put them in places where they might belong and if they don't fit they have to put them back where they had taken it from so that they don't get mixed up, while your mind is trying to remember where you already have tried them, where they have been and if there could be a pattern to follow – and your brain has to coordinate all of this."

"Whoa …" The boy made, sitting up and looking at him with large eyes. "That's a lot."

"Indeed." He answered, glad that Harry was – yet again – eager to learn instead of being stubborn.

"But why do I not notice how much my brain works?" The boy asked.

"Because it is unconsciously." He answered, sitting down at the floor and taking one of the puzzle-pieces. "Describe this piece of puzzle to me."

"Uhm, well – it is one of the larger pieces." The boy said upon looking at it. "But it has very small stick-outs and so it has to belong someplace with small stick-ins. But it has very long shoulders, and the spade between the two stick-ins looks very strange. It has to belong between two stick-outs into a corner. It's a piece from the house, and I think from one of the lit up windows. The brown border here suggests that it's from the window in the door, because the other windows have no wooden boarder."

"That was a very good description, Harry." He said, actually impressed. The boy had not said – it's a large piece that belongs to a window, but he had entirely described it. No wonder he was so good at solving the puzzle. "Your mindset surely is anything but simple. However – while recognizing all these details you do not think them, you recognize them instinctively and therefore unconsciously, you do not have to think them because your brain is saving all the information in the background. And so you don't realize that your brain is working. If you however explain the piece to someone else, also set into words what your brain has recognized instinctively before, your brain has to _think_ for doing so, it is not instinctively and therefore not unconsciously, but consciously and you realize that your brain is working. That's the difference between the two."

"Does that mean, if I only unconsciously think, then I am not thinking at all?" The boy asked and he narrowed his eyes at his son.

"No." He slowly said. "You cannot _'think nothing'_. Your brain always is working, never mind what, even in sleep, but sometimes it is working in the forefront if you consciously use your brain for thinking and sometimes it is only working in the background if you are – let me say, dreaming away your time. Come here." He then added waving the boy closer and Harry scrambled over without hesitation, something he took for a good sign.

He gently took the boy's shoulders and turned him, pulling him close until the boy rested with his back against his chest.

"Close your eyes, Harry." He softly said. "And now breathe in … and out … calmly and regularly. Try to find your centre and relax into it, just go on breathing regularly and calmly, as if falling asleep. That's very good." He softly said, not only because he tried to avoid pulling the boy out of his calm mindset, but also because – he was startled at how easily and at how quickly this child, a child that had been starved, beaten and locked away for his entire life, was now able to relax in his arms. He didn't know if it was a good sign or a bad sign, if it was good as it spoke of the trust the child showed him or if it was bad as it spoke of the need the child showed.

"And now try to picture a scene." He whispered. "Any scene. It could be a landscape with either mountains or a lake, or it could be a room or a house. Even the sky would be alright. You only have to picture it in your mind, don't try to describe it to me, it is only important for you. And now try to go deeper into the scene. You normally only would see it in your mind, but now try to go into the scene."

A moment later he could see a forest with tall trees that blocked any light coming from the outside and he nearly gasped.

He knew that it was not his own occlumency scene, even though he did have a forest too, but this here was a complete different forest than was his.

Never before had anyone pulled him into his mind as easily as Harry had done just now, the boy most likely not even realizing what he had done or he would have been startled. He hadn't even heard of someone pulling his occlumency teacher into his mind upon the first lesson! That was –

"Walk through the forest and picture it." He softly said, leading the boy further than he had been planning. "Each place in this forest you have been at will be a part of your safety place where you can retreat to whenever you are in danger. But do not run through the forest to explore all of it at once. Rather go slow until you have found a place you like and then you just stop and learn more about the place, about the several trees, about the foliage and the deer, about the light and about how it feels."

He was unsure, he had to admit that.

Never before had he had an occlumency student and never before had he been in someone else's mind while it was so peaceful. He'd been in the Dark Lord's mind, but that bastard was anything than calm or peaceful and neither was his mind. His mind was a wasteland with lava-spiting mountains and with stones and entire plateaus, black, and glazed over with frozen lava, sharp edges dangerous to the dweller and he knew that these sharp edges existed in reality, that they were the Dark Lord's sharp mind that was ready to cut through anything, ready to slice – in the truest sense of the word.

He also had been in Albus mind when the headmaster had taught him both, occlumency and legillimence, but Albus' mind hadn't been like this either. It hadn't been the dark and dangerous wasteland of the Dark Lord's mind, but it hadn't been peaceful anyway. It rather had been like – a constant battle, a sea battle, a battle on horses on a field, a battle of angels between heaven and hell – it had been a constant changing battlefield, a strenuous mind to walk in and he had liked it no bit while at the same time he had learned that Albus was anything but the nice grandfather.

Albus was a warrior, his friend, but a warrior.

Harry's mind however – it was peaceful and it was calm, it was innocent and he couldn't help hitching a breath at the overwhelming experience.

"Try to do something in your scene." He whispered, slowly, neither ready to give away his own overwhelmed mindset nor to disturb Harry's. "Try to actually sit down or to reach out and to touch a tree. It is your mind, Harry, and you can do anything in here you wish."

Exactly, the boy could do anything he wished, he could imagine anything he wished, he could do the greatest things and imagine the unimaginable – and yet, the child chose a forest and to just walk through that forest.

A moment later he could see the boy reaching out and touching the tree in front of him, running his fingers over the bark softly and he noticed that the the trees in the forest were large birch trees, the ones they had used in potions for healing salves. And the child was happy with it.

"What a beautiful place, dad." Harry said, the Harry in Harry's mind and again he frowned.

Never before had anyone in one's mind been able to communicate with him and he took another step closer, experimentally reaching out to touch Harry's shoulder – and was able to.

"Yes, it is." He whispered back.

"See this small river?" The boy asked, pointing to a small river flowing through the woods and he nodded. "I'd like to build a tree house there."

"Then do so." He softly suggested. "It is uncommon to built something in your scene, one normally rather would imagine it being there as a shelter, but if you wish to, then just built it."

"I don't know how." His son said, looking up at him, scared. "I … I've never built something … always only repaired … well …"

"Then I guess it's time you start." He gently answered, pulling the boy close. "I will help you, if you so wish. But now today. It is late and I fear we have to go back. Concentrate on your breathing, keep it calm and slow. Concentrate on your body, on your hands and your fingers, how they feel – and then open your eyes as soon as you are ready."

His son opened his eyes and turned in his arms, looking up at him and Severus was struck again by the sheer force of those green eyes staring so trustingly up into his own black eyes, a sheer proof of how deep the bond they had formed over the last few weeks went, of how strong it was and he knew if Harry continued to pull him into his mind, into his vision, then this bond only would strengthen further with each time this happened and to the point where he would have to be careful so that Harry wouldn't accidentally bond their minds too.

They were bond in body through their blood as father and son and they were bond in their souls through the love they shared as father and son – if they were to bond in their minds too, he didn't dare imagine the outcome.

"That was so great." The boy in his arms said, settling back against his chest and snuggling closer into his robes.

"That it was." He said. "So you have chosen a forest with an overgrown foliage as your barrier, the place that is your safe place, that would protect your mind from outside force."

"Protect my mind?" The boy asked. "Wasn't it my mind?"

"It was your mind, but only part of it." He answered. "The human mind is – let me explain it in your words – the human mind is like an onion. You have layers of layers which are filled with information, with emotion, with equations and with pictures, with sounds as well as with experiences and new ideas, and all of these things your brain contains intuitively as well as extuitively. You can peel off layer for layer, and you won't ever reach the innermost point anyway as our brain is constantly working and learning. Even my brain, as old as I am, is constantly learning, even while I explain my knowledge to you. Do you realize that you have pulled me into your mind, Harry?"

"I have what?" The boy asked, like he had known he would. Of course the boy had not realized what he had done. "I … uhm … sorry, sir, I … I didn't mean to …"

"Stop." He immediately said, placing his hand over the boy's chest. "Stop, and keep breathing calmly. You have done nothing wrong. What you have done is a mixture of occlumency and legillimency and even though I have known that it is possible, I have never heard of anyone actually managing this feat and surely not upon the first attempt. You have done nothing wrong, child, and if I had wanted, then I would have been able to hinder your attempt. I have followed your pull willingly. It is _I_ who has to apologize for the intrusion on your mind."

"What – but no!" The boy immediately said.

Of course – the child was so ready to apologize for everything that wasn't even a mistake, but if someone apologized to him, and rightfully so, then he wasn't ready to hear any of it.

"Easy." He said, applying a bit of pressure on the boy's chest to keep him from taking a deeper breath that would initiate a rant, and gritting his teeth for a moment at the bony chest underneath his palm. "Your mind is a very private thing, Harry." He then explained. "And no one has the right to enter anyone's mind without permission, except for life threatening situations and even then only a mind healer is allowed to. Now, you have – in one way – given your permission, seeing that you have pulled me into your mind and so you definitely _wanted_ me there or you wouldn't have done so – but only in a way, because have you actually thought _'I will now pull Severus into my mind'_? See? You have done it unconsciously and so – rightfully I should have prevented it."

"What is occluthings and legilithings?" The boy asked and he huffed.

"Occlumency and legillimency." He then answered. "I have told you that your mind is very private, but it is possible to break into your mind with legillimency."

"And to read my thoughts?" The boy asked, horrified.

"Not exactly." He sighed. "Like I said, it is complicated, it isn't like a book and you skim through the pages until you have found what you are searching for to read it. A legillimence will be able to wake one or another memory by giving an impulse like a word or a sentence said and if then entering your mind the legillimence will be able to view the memory, like an onlooker, like with a pensive."

"What's a pensive?" The boy asked.

"A pensive is a device to store memories the way they happened instead of the way one feels about them, I will explain this one later." He explained. "With occlumency you will be able to prevent such intrusion, to protect your mind from anyone entering by force and against your wish. It means to create a scene in which everything is sorted in a way you are comfortable with, a scene that gives anyone entering just an impression and keeping him from going deeper into your mind. You will need protection devices for that, like one or another animal, trap, or anything else you can imagine."

"Can you do these things?" Harry asked.

"Yes, I am able to either use legillimency to enter someone's mind and to occlude my mind so that no one can enter."

"Cool." The brat exclaimed in awe. "Can you show me?"

"What I have showed you today is already the basic of occlumency." He said. "You are too young to learn it entirely, your mind is too young and you could take serious harm if you used real occlumency or legillimency, but the basics of it, yes, I can show you. I even think that it will do good to you, to organize your life and your mind. But in a playful way only, mind you."

Well, this had been a comment that had Harry turning quickly, startled, coughing, and he turned the boy, carefully hitting the boy's back with his palm.

"You know, that's scary." The boy then said when he was able to breath again.

"What?" He asked, smirking. "The fact that I use a terminology like – learning something in a playful way?"

"Yes, that's really scary."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Your feet are cold, Harry." He said upon touching them.

The boy had gone to bed but was laying there for over an hour now, unable to actually sleep and he had found him turning in his bed when he had come to have a look on his son before retiring to bed himself. He had checked on the boy, had cast a short diagnostic, knowing that Harry surely would do anything else but telling him physical trouble. The boy didn't even tell him if he had stomach aches, if he had cramps, but bore them silently – another reminder of the abuse the boy had been through at the hands of his relatives, the child was used to taking whatever was thrown at him, silently and without complaining, even though there could be a solution like potions or massages.

"Know." The boy sighed. "But I'm wearing socks." He added, leaning onto his elbow and looking up at him pleadingly as if he had blamed the child for having cold feet.

"I know, I have touched your feet just a second ago." He sighed, shaking his head and going over to the boy's shelf, pulling out the drawer that contained Harry's socks.

The shelf was just that, a shelf, a large shelf that replaced a cupboard and he had put it there to keep any memory of a cupboard out of the boy's mind, but there were several drawers integrated, one with socks and one with underwear, just for example.

Frowning he searched through the mass of the several parts of socks.

"This drawer is a mess." He said, trying to find two socks that matched. "Why don't you place the socks in pairs, Harry? That way you maybe even would be able wearing matching socks instead of always wearing different ones."

"I'm trying, sir." Harry said, being back to 'sir' and he knew the reason. "But they get mixed, I don't know why, sir."

"There is no need to worry, Harry." He said, having found two socks that clearly belonged together and going over to the bed, waving his wand at the same time to sort the socks in the drawer into pairs again. "I have sorted them now and I ask you to keep them that way. Give me your foot." He then said, pulling the thin sock from the boy's left foot. He massaged the foot for a bit with warm hands, until the thin thing was warm too, and then he put on the warmer fleece sock.

"Your other foot." He said, already taking the boy's other foot and repeating the procedure. "You know, barely two days and you already have your socks in a disarray, I wonder what this drawer will look like in a week. I want you to wear these socks in bed, Harry, they are warmer and they will keep your feet warmer too." He then added, covering the boy's thin legs with the blankie first and then with the blanket. "And now try to sleep, I will sit with you for a while."

"Dad?" The boy unsurely asked, after having settled back beneath the blankets.

"Yes, Harry?" He asked back.

"It's Tuesday tomorrow." The boy then said, sounding worried. "And that means it's arithmancy. I haven't been at arithmancy last week, because of the black lily in herbology, but I've heard what happened there and … do you think that it will be the same tomorrow?"

"No, I don't think so." He calmly answered, knowing why the boy felt unable to sleep tonight. "I have had a serious word with Professor Vector and I am sure that she will try harder to – regard you and your needs. She is a very good teacher and a very nice person generally, she just has her own issues like anyone else too and these issues are keeping her from acting the way others expect her to – or need her to. She will try harder, and if not, then you know where to find me, Harry."

"'k." The boy said, but he didn't really sound confident.

"Harry." He said, leaning closer. "There will be no need to fear a lesson ever again, child. Neither a lesson from me nor from any other teacher, do you hear, child? I do not care if it is Moody, Creighton or Septima, Vector. If there is a problem, then I expect you to come and inform me so that we can find a solution, whatever solution that might be. You are to learn without fear and I only can apologize again for having mistreated you during the past three years the way I have, having taken this chance from you, to learn in peace and without fear."

It wasn't long after and he had a sleeping child, but he felt unable to get up and go for his own bed, his eyes glued to the small and thin form beneath the covers.

How was it that he felt so deep when it came to this child now? And how was it that he had not seen it in the past, that this was only a child? How was it that he felt so warm while watching a child sleeping? The pale face peaceful for once, the thin fingers relaxed for once and the breathing calm and regular for once? How was it that he felt so desperate and so helpless while thinking about how much this child had suffered? At the knowledge that he couldn't do much to make it alright? At the knowledge that this child rather suffered silently instead of bothering anyone?

How was it, that he felt so deep at the knowledge that _this_ child – was his son?

He had no answer to this, but he started to understand what fatherhood meant, what family meant, what it meant to have a son, a child.

break ... ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ... line

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued<strong>

**Next time in A few days more**

______________Socks, shoes and Diagon______________

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too, thank you …

**House cup: **

At the present time it looks like this:

708 - Gryffindor - Head of House: Catlady

701 - Slytherin - Head of House: evil minded

576 - Ravenclaw - Head of House: Arithmancy Master

340 - Hufflepuff - Head of House: still a free post


	17. the mutt, the wolf and the eight-leg

**Title:**

A few days more

Sequel to twenty-one days

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Fourth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

"A few days more" is the sequel to "Twenty-one days" – read and review this first or you wouldn't understand all that happens in this story.

The fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindors have survived their imprisonment in the potions classroom situated in the dungeons. How will they go on in all-day life after their survival? How will they manage to reintegrate into the castle's routine and their classes? How will they be able to go back to life at all? Watch how those who survived fight for their lives and for their peace, for their place in the community at Hogwarts.

**Disclaimer: **

Did you see Severus alive at the end of _'The deathly hallows'_? no?

Do you think I would have had him died if I had written those books? no?

Then you know that _'Harry Potter'_ does not belong to me … nor does Severus … regrettably … he belongs to J. K. Rowling …

But Hereweald Hrothgar does …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Warning:**

Story contains references to child abuse.

Child-abuse is a really serious thing, it is an evil thing and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help without being helped, and closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist, is no solution …

I only say - remind yourself of your feelings, of your sympathy, and of your understanding … and handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once being abused … with understanding and with help …

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me - I am …

* * *

><p>break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line<p>

**Previously in A few days more**

_"Harry." He said, leaning closer. "There will be no need to fear a lesson ever again, child. Neither a lesson from me nor from any other teacher, do you hear, child? I do not care if it is Moody, Creighton or Septima, Vector. If there is a problem, then I expect you to come and inform me so that we can find a solution, whatever solution that might be. You are to learn without fear and I only can apologize again for having mistreated you during the past three years the way I have."_

_It wasn't long after and he had a sleeping child, but he felt unable to get up and go for his own bed, his eyes glued to the small and thin form beneath the covers. _

_How was it that he felt so deep when it came to this child now? And how was it that he had not seen it in the past, that this was only a child? How was it that he felt so warm while watching a child sleeping? The pale face peaceful for once, the thin fingers relaxed for once and the breathing calm and regular for once? How was it that he felt so desperate and so helpless while thinking about how much this child had suffered? At the knowledge that he couldn't do much? At the knowledge that this child rather suffered silently instead of bothering anyone?  
>How was it, that he felt so deep at the knowledge that this child – was his son? <em>

_He had no answer to this, but he started to understand what fatherhood meant, what family meant, what it meant to have a son, a child. _

**A few days more**

**Chapter seventeen **

**Day sixteen – eighth of October – Tuesday**

**The mutt, the wolf and the eight-leg**

Severus nervously paced the parlour, running his hand through his hair every now and then, an uncharacteristic sign of just how nervous he was.

The day had gone exceptionally well. Herbology had been no problem at all, but he hadn't expected any problems to begin with during a lesson from Pomona. He had worried about Septima and Harry being in her arithmancy class, the boy only recently having learned how to do math to begin with and he knew that Harry lacked any basic knowledge when it came to that area – and Septima was impatient at the best, these days. So yes, he had been worried.

But nothing had happened. Septima had ignored Harry, Draco, Theodore and Adrian, according to Cameron - something these boys had been glad for, but it surely was no solution and he would have another word with the teacher. Ronald was a different matter. Septima apparently had not forgotten about the detention the boy had gotten out of because he, Severus had taken him from her classroom, but that didn't mean that he would stand for her throwing nasty glances at the boy whenever she saw him. It had not been Ronald's fault but his, Severus', and he would not allow her to hurt any of his students, even if it was Ronald Weasley.

Not to mention that the boy had behaved well so far.

No, he rather was worried because Harry currently was – visiting his god-mutt.

He had wanted to accompany the boy, it was the first meeting between the two after all, but Albus had suggested that he allowed the boy and the mutt this private moment.

**Flashback**

_"I demand being present during this meeting, just to make sure that Harry will leave his god-mutt unharmed, as sad as it is that someone has to keep an eye on the boy's godfather so he wouldn't hurt him."_

_"If there is someone who harms my godson, then it is you, Snivellus." Black growled back at him, a sound that didn't really bother him. "Knowing Snape, he will use the boy for his dark potions, Albus."_

_"Of course, because cutting children in tiny parts and then drinking their blood is so much fun, Black." He sneered._

_"Enough, both of you." Albus called out, getting off the chair behind his desk and he scowled at the headmaster. "You two will stop this annoying fighting immediately. You both claim that you love Harry, then act like it and stop your fighting for the boy's sake. Sirius, for now I expect you to ask for Severus' permission if you wish to see Harry, seeing that he is Harry's father and Severus, I expect you to allow Sirius seeing Harry alone if there is nothing that speaks against it at the time."_

_"Very well, then this meeting tonight is cancelled, as there are a lot of things speaking against it." He said, smirking in satisfaction. Of course he knew that he wouldn't get away easily with it, but he enjoyed Black's enraged face the moment he got off his chair to leave Albus' office._

_"Severus!" Albus called out and he could hear the anger in the older wizard's voice. _

_"It was worth a try." He said, slowly turning back to face the mutt. "Very well, but Black, do not even think about telling this child that I wouldn't care about him."_

_"Or what, Snivellus?" The mutt asked, smiling at him nastily._

_"Or you would hurt him with your words." He answered, keeping his face stony while he watched the mutt's smile faltering at his words, before he left the office, the mutt surely having expected a threat coming from him. _

**End flashback**

Of course he knew that Black didn't _want_ to hurt Harry, Black might be a bully and he intentionally might hurt someone he didn't like, but Black would die for the people he loved and he surely wouldn't go so far to say that the mutt didn't love the boy, even if they only had met once last year and under dire circumstances. Except of that they never had met – could one speak of love in this situation?

But regardless of the man's intentions, what he knew was that Black would do so anyway, that he would hurt the boy, because Black wouldn't think about his words before uttering them, he wouldn't regard Harry's feelings.

Huffing he poured another cup or coffee. He didn't drink coffee in the evening normally, but today was an exception, today he just needed another cup of coffee – and let's stress the word _another_ cup because it clearly wasn't his first one tonight.

He had brought his son to the unused classroom where Harry and Sirius were to meet in secrecy and away from the eyes of the other students, and he had left him there, reminding Harry to come for him the moment he needed him and throwing a nasty glare at the mutt that would tell him – _'hurt Harry and I'll hurt you'_. He doubted that the idiot man had known what his glare had meant, but well, he had tried.

And now he only could hope – hope that either Black wouldn't hurt his son or that Harry would come to him should Black do so.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

To say that he wasn't nervous would be an understatement.

He of course had been looking forward to seeing Sirius again, but he didn't really know how to handle the man – nor Remus, now that they – what? Lived together? Were together? He didn't really know the situation and he didn't know how to act – or react for that matter.

Not to mention that Sirius every now and then tried to – to get between Severus and him, and he didn't know why, or how to handle it.

"Did that overgrown, eight-legged beast not feed you or did he suck your blood for one of his nastier potions?" Sirius had asked when he had come into the unused classroom and after Severus had left. He hadn't commented on it though, but it wasn't the only comment his godfather had made so far. There also were the "this overgrown dungeons bat doesn't even know how to care for children, one just has to look at you, you're bones and skin" and the "only a cruel person like Snape is able to watch children suffering hunger or you wouldn't be bones and skin only" and the "if you lived with me, then you would be healthier than that".

Of course he had tried to explain to Sirius that it wasn't Severus' fault, but somehow it was in vain, the man didn't understand. Or didn't _want_ to understand. And Remus wasn't much better.

Remus hadn't said anything about Severus being his father, and he hadn't expected him to, Remus was much calmer than was Sirius, he had noticed that quite soon, but that didn't mean that it was easy. Remus watched him, always, never leaving his eyes off him and that made him uncomfortable, it was scary.

"You know, Harry, Dumbledore said he would have the Wizengamot re-opening my case." Sirius said excitedly – again. "You know what that means, don't you? You can live with me! I'll be your legal guardian as soon as I'm free."

"But we don't know each other …" Harry said, looking at his godfather, scared. He did not want to appear ungrateful, he liked Sirius, really, but he did not really know how to balance yet another adult in his life, and his godfather that wanted to become – what? His father? His stepfather? His foster father? What did Sirius want? Why did he want to become his something anyway? Not to mention that he did have Severus and he did not want to have another guardian. Severus was his father, he didn't need another guardian. Sirius was his godfather, and not his father.

He just was scared.

"Harry." The man said, reaching out to touch Harry and he pulled back a little. He averted his eyes when Sirius' face fell. "We'll get to know each other and you'll live with me, don't worry, really. Your parents made me your godfather and I'll adopt you the moment I'm free finally."

Well, the only thing Harry right now was feeling – was the panic building up in him.

He liked Sirius, the man was alright to be around him for an hour or two, but to live with him? That would mean leaving his father, leaving the one person who had kept him not only alive but sane as well during the past two months now, the one person that looked out for him, the one person who kept him going, the one person who … no, he couldn't do that, _wouldn't_ do that.

And surely he had a say in this too? Surely he would be asked what he wanted? And Severus? Wouldn't Severus be asked too?

"I … I have Severus …" He started, but he was interrupted by Sirius frowning at him.

"Snape isn't the father you need, Harry!" Sirius seriously said. "Anyone could do better than that octocrus! And he is too harsh with you anyway! He punishes you ways too often!"

"He hasn't punished me at all so far and he loves me and … and I love him." He protested, not knowing why Sirius was so persistent on this and why he denunciated the Potions Master so much, why he called him names he didn't even know what they meant. "He is good for me, Sirius … you know how my life was before him … my relatives … I was only a burden to them … but Severus cares for me and for what I do and that I'm happy. He only wants me to be safe and to be healthy and … and to learn. He is a good father. Even if he tells me what to do and what not to do."

"Harry, you don't have any experiences with having a father …" Sirius protested.

"No, but I talk with my friends, you know?" He shook his head. He wanted to go home now, and away from Sirius. He was scared and his stomach hurt. "I know that Mr. Weasley tells Ron what to do too sometimes … as does Hermione's father or any other father, Greg's and Vince's … I like what I have."

"But … I'll treat you better." The man promised and Harry's stomach aches grew. "And surely you won't compete with scum like Crabbe and Goyle! And _I'll_ never tell you when to go to bed or take your broom away or punish you … I'll _always_ make you happy … you'll see! You'll live with me soon and then you'll see."

"But I have to take potions and …" He said, running his hand over his cramping stomach. "And I need … I can't live with you …"

"I will ask Dumbledore if you could live with me and Sirius." Remus said, dropping down beside Harry. "We also could arrange for a nurse to come and give you your potions. Sirius would be so happy then."

"But … but I already have a home!" Harry choked out, gliding as close to the banister as he could. He always had liked Remus, as a teacher, but he didn't want living with the two, he wanted to stay with Severus and he nearly cried with the desperation he felt, and with the stomach cramps.

"You can't be talking about staying with Snape?" Remus looked at him, piercingly. "Harry, Dumbledore placed you there because Snape isn't useful to the Order now that his cover is blown, but it was a temporal solution only." Remus said, taking Harry's hand. "Snape doesn't care about you anyway, he just took you because he had to."

"No!" Harry nearly screamed, pulling his hand back. "You don't know what you're talking about. Severus takes care of me better than anyone else ever has. Ever! For the first time I have clothes that fit me and a room that I can call my own."

"It's Severus now, is it?" Sirius growled at him, looking at him darkly and he nearly flinched back.

"Of course it is, he is my father, he has adopted me!" He tried to explain, desperately, pressing his hands over his stomach. If only Severus would he here now.

"He's your professor, Harry, and you're his student." Remus chided, looking at him sternly. "You shouldn't have grown so close to him."

"I don't see a reason as to why not, _Professor._" Harry answered, stretching the word professor. His heart was racing with thousands of beats per minute, fearing that any moment either Remus or Sirius would hit him but he didn't care, as long as he wasn't taken from Severus.

"_I_ – am not a former follower of Voldemort, Harry." Remus said, slamming his fist at the table and Harry jumped back, looking at Remus, startled. That was it now, he knew, they would hit him. They would beat him and then they would lock him up in a cupboard to keep him from going back to Severus!

The moment Sirius got to his feet Harry turned and ran out of the classroom, his fist gripping the shirt over his stomach that hurt with the cramps more and more, and straight to the dungeons, nearly crying desperately. His worst fear had come true – he would lose Severus. Sirius would take him away and he would lose Severus!

He barely could breathe with fear the moment he ran into their quarters and when he caught sight of the Potions Master he actually thought he would suffocate, grabbed the shirt over his chest too in an attempt to get a breath into his lungs – one way or another.

"You are early, any problems at the meeting with Black?" He heard the man asking and he was glad to hear the calmness and worry in his voice instead of the usual sarcasm he had expected at arriving home out of breath, but at the same time this was his undoing. After Sirius and Remus had said that Snape wouldn't care about him … well he simply wasn't able to keep his damn tears from falling at the man's always so calm – and caring – voice.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Severus left the kitchen the moment he heard the door to their quarters banging open violently and with a scowl on his face he went into the parlour, ready to scold Harry for the racket he was causing but when his eyes fell on the boy who barely was able to breathe, pulling his T-shirt in an attempt to take a breath while at the same time pressing his other hand over his stomach like he always did upon having cramps, the face pale and a mask of distress – he quickly started walking towards the teen, crossed his arms in front of his chest so that the boy would not be scared of his hands and he looked at Harry, searching for an answer to his unspoken question to what had happened on his face.

His first impulse had been to take the boy and to pull him close, but he didn't like the distress of the child, didn't like the dilated eyes, knowing that he only would have to deal with a panic attack if he acted too quickly now. He had to act calmly and slowly now – blast this imbecile of a god-mutt for distressing the boy like that!

"You are early, any problems at the meeting with Black?" He asked, and a moment later the bloody boy actually started crying, worrying him nearly out of his wits. He knew – if Harry cried, then he had a reason, especially if he was crying like this, so desperately. The boy had nearly died just a month ago and even back then he had not cried. They had been locked into the potions classroom with barely anything edible and for three entire weeks, and even back then the boy barely had cried. So – what horrifying thing had happened right now that the child lost it and actually choked on his sobs?

Slowly reaching out and taking the teen by his shoulders he steered him to the sofa to sit him down there, the boy allowing him doing so without a fuss for a moment, but before he had the boy sitting on the sofa Harry leaned against him, his face smearing snot and tears at the shirt over his stomach and he folded his own arms around the shaking shoulders, holding the child until the sobs subsided, only running calming circles over the still so bony back.

"What happened, son?" He asked when he thought that Harry was getting himself back under control.

"Sirius is going to take me away!" The boy cried out, fear and desperation clearly audible in his voice and he nearly was back to gasping for breath. "The adoption … it's permanent, isn't it? He can't take me away … can he? Dad? Please?"

"He wants to take you away?" Severus asked startled, his brows furrowed. He had expected many things when he had agreed to the boy visiting that damn flea-bag for tea once a fortnight but surely not that! Of course Harry would panic upon such a comment from the mutt – and his face darkened.

"He said that … that my parents named him my godfather and that once his name is cleared he would adopt me and take me away with him … that he would take me away from you …" The boy hitched out and Severus finally took Harry to the sofa and sat him down before he went back into the kitchen to fetch a cup of tea and added half a vial of a calming draught to it. He took it back to Harry and made him drinking it in slow sips.

"Do not worry, child." He calmly said, simply keeping his hand laying on the boy's shoulder blade while thinking of all the most evil things he would like to bestow upon that blasted mangy mutt. "The adoption is valid and Black can do nothing to get you away against your wish."

"But he said … he said he could do it …" The boy gasped, looking lost for all that was worth.

"He can't." He repeated. "Black can do absolutely _nothing_ to take you away and now calm down, child. What's wrong with your stomach?" He then asked, gently taking the thin wrist of the hand Harry had pressing over his stomach.

"Hurts." The boy just sobbed and it was clear, the mangy mutt had upset the child enough to cause new cramps.

"Let me help you with this." He softly said while starting to gently run his hand over the boy's stomach, easily finding the cramping knots and massaging them away. "The calming potion will help with that too, just calm down and trust me, child, you are absolutely safe, Black can do nothing to take you away, trust me, everything will be alright." He could feel the cramping knots loosening slowly, too slowly for his liking, but they did loosen.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Harry had exhausted himself until he had fallen asleep while Severus had held him all the time, over and over again reassuring him that Black wouldn't be able to take him away, that he was safe and he had held him for a while longer when he had fallen asleep. He had left him on the couch, covered with a blanket he had taken from the backrest while cursing Black to hell and back.

The moment he was sure that the boy was asleep deeply he left his quarters and quickly hurried down the corridor to the idiotic man's rooms, his cloak billowing behind him dangerously enough so that students on their way through the castle's corridors left the line of his path quickly. He would set an end to this before the damage Black brought on his son was too deep.

Rounding the corner of the hallway he was hurrying along he already could hear the voice of the man he had been in search for.

"If Snivellus doesn't keep his fingers off my godson I'll give him a piece of my mind!" The blasted mutt was saying to most likely the wolf.

"Careful, mutt." He drawled, approaching the dog and the wolf – he had been correct, of course it was the wolf. "You do not have enough mind for sparing even one cell of it."

"Snivellus!" The dog growled. "We've just been speaking of you."

"As have Harry and I." He growled darkly. "Come with me, Black."

"Why should I, Snivellus?" The blasted man asked, actually sounding daring and he leaned closer to the idiot man. He was angry and he surely wouldn't play the man's games right now.

"Because I could arrange an appointment with a few dementors for you, Black." He angrily snarled into the man's face.

"You wouldn't dare …" Black started, straightening up in front of him to be a bit more intimidating. "Albus …"

"Sirius, please!" Lupin said, trying to get the other man to reason but Severus wasn't interested in the wolf.

"Do not tempt me, Black." He growled darkly. "Because I will do so if you won't leave my son alone and I don't care if you have Albus wound around your fingers."

"Harry's not your son and you have no right over him!" Black said and the Potions Master took a deep breath.

"Actually Harry _is_ my son, or have you already forgotten about what the headmaster has told you just the night before?" He hissed at the man. "And here I already told you – be careful mutt, because you do not have enough mind for sparing even one cell of it."

"I want to have him in my care as soon as possible, Snivellus."

"And _I_ want you rotting in hell – unfortunately we rarely get what we want." Severus hissed angrily.

"Severus, please." The wolf now tried to reason with _him_ after he had noticed that he was unsuccessful with Black. "Sirius is Harry's godfather after all."

"I do not care who or what he is." He hissed angrily. "The last thing Harry is in need of is Black rolling into his life and then disappearing behind a golden snitch or some skirts after he has hurt the boy over and over again."

"You bastard!" Black now hissed, reaching out to him, Snape, his hands aiming for his throat but the Potions Master was quicker and a moment later he had grabbed the mutt's shirt and thrown him against the next wall, his wand pointing at his throat.

"You will leave my son alone, Black!" He very quietly and slowly said. "Because the last time you talked to the boy, he cried himself to sleep. You are not to be near my son ever again! Do not forget – you are still an escaped convict after all and therefore yes, _I will be able_ to keep you away from Harry."

"Is that a threat?" Black asked, nearly laughing and it was clear that he thought this was one big joke, like he always had seen life as one big joke.

"Absolutely not." The Potions Master answered, seriously and calmly. "It is a promise – and I do tend to keeping my promises."

"You know, James would turn in his grave if he knew!" Black called and for a moment he wondered what the man was aiming for with his comment, seeing that he'd never been a friend of James Potter. "You of all people adopting his son, James would never allow that!"

"Potter's dead, so it hardly matters what he'd allow." He returned coldly.

Well, this comment apparently had been too much, because Black gave a strangled cry away and then pulled out his wand, aiming it at Severus.

"I'll see him taken away from you." Black howled. "And if it's the last thing I'll do, but I'll see him taken away from you."

"Do you hate me enough, Black, to hurt Harry?" He asked. "Are you really ready to risk that, Black, to hurt Harry badly, just to get to me? Is that worth it, Black?"

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Severus!" The wolf called when he left the corridor, coming after him.

"Spare your breath, wolf." He growled. "I won't change my mind, Black either leaves my son alone or I will pull in the aurors. You know what that means, Lupin, don't you?"

"That was not what I wanted, Severus." Lupin said and he lifted his eyebrow.

"It isn't the full moon yet, wolf." He growled. "And so there is no need for your little potion yet."

"I don't care about that potion either." The man said and he narrowed his eyes. It had to be something quite important if he was ready to risk his potion that would keep him sane once a month during his transfiguration into the werewolf. "I want to know what kind of tricks you are plying with Harry."

"Trick?" He asked, lifting his eyebrow at the man.

"Your scent is on Harry's clothes." The wolf accused and for a moment he didn't know if he should feel offended or if he should rather laugh at the wolf's stupidity. "At his hair, at the entire boy!"

"Of course my scent is on him and his clothes, wolf." He hissed, taking a step towards the man. "He is my son and he is living with me, Lupin, what did you expect? My scent is on him as is Ronald's, Hermione's and Draco's, you imbecile, seeing that we all are living together. Use your brain, Lupin, please, before you jump to conclusions that only makes an idiot out of you."

"I don't buy your story about suddenly loving Harry, about suddenly caring for him, you of all people as if you hadn't bullied him for the past three years." Lupin said, not giving in. "And I don't know how you have done it, but somehow you have meddled with his brain and he has fallen for your delusions. I'm going to visit Albus and ask him to check your wand for the use of the imperious."

"You can do what you want, Lupin, I couldn't care less." He said. "As long as you get out of my way, because I have an upset son whom I have left alone for long enough tonight."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Yawning and stretching he looked through the parlour.

Merlin, he had fallen asleep on Severus again, crying all over the man again, but he had been so scared that maybe Sirius could really take him away from Severus, he had been so desperate, his stomach still hurt and cramped at the thought. Not as bad as it had before, after Severus had massaged his stomach and had given him a potion, but it still hurt. But well, he was used to that now, wasn't he?

Getting off the sofa he looked around, looking for the man but didn't find him. It surely wasn't that he couldn't be alone, he was fourteen after all, but he wanted his father right now. He'd been without a father for long enough and now he had one and there was Sirius who wanted to take this away from him – he just wanted the man now.

Well, he also could have just gone to his room, he was sure that Adrian would be happy about it, or he could visit Draco or Neville in their rooms, but he didn't want to, and neither did he want to sit with Vincent and Gregory whom were sitting on one of the sofas.

What he wanted, what he felt he needed right now, was Severus.

Vincent looked over at Harry, frowning.

Of course he knew that there was Cameron now, and that there was Severus now too, and the other teachers, but still he felt responsible for Harry somehow. Severus had asked him to take care of Harry, even though only if something happened to the teacher, back then, in the potions classroom while they had been locked, but he had asked him to and he had agreed and now, even though there were all the other teachers and Madam Pomfrey too, he still felt responsible for the smaller boy.

His frown deepening he – and not for the first time – wondered how it was that Harry was so small. He wasn't stupid, despite what some of the other students and teachers said, he just was intelligent enough to know – if he didn't give away that he was intelligent, so no one would expect anything of him while at the same time he did no harm in playing dump, he always could change it after all, it wasn't as if it were the other way round. However, he wasn't stupid and so he of course knew that the muggles had starved Harry for a long time, for years, that they had locked him away in a small cupboard and it was like with his rats. He'd had two rats that had been in a too small cage, because they hadn't gotten along with the other rats in the large cage, but even though they all had been the same age, the rats in the small cage hadn't grown as large as the rats in the large cage, even though he had fed them the same and even more than the other rats, and even though he had taken them out more often than the other rats to play with them and to carry them around, and anyway they always had been smaller and they had died sooner, had gotten a postural deformity, if one could say so with rats too.

So of course Harry would be smaller than the other children his age, not to mention that they had starved him for a long time, he had heard Severus talking about it and even if he didn't like what his father did, while thinking about it, about what these muggles had done to Harry, he at least could understand why his father hated muggles as much as he seemed to.

"Harry?" He asked the boy who looked as if searching for something – or someone, most likely Severus.

"Hmm?" Harry made back, slowly coming over and he noticed that the other boy looked tired still. "I'm looking for – Severus." Harry then added and he noticed the small pause before saying Severus' name. He was sure that Harry wanted to say _'dad'_ but hadn't dared doing so because Severus had been their, the Slytherins' head of house at first, before all of this had happened with the potions classroom. Harry never did if he was talking about Severus with them, or at least he rarely did.

"Severus left." He said, not sure how many information he should give Harry, about how angry Severus had been. "Shortly after you fell asleep."

He had of course witnessed the scene when Harry had come back from his meeting with his godfather – and yes, they knew about it, Severus and Harry had told them in the meeting on Sunday forenoon and he was sure that they had told them so that they would understand one or another situation – like the one this evening – instead of going for a ghost hunt with Black or a dog and a wolf.

However, Harry had been really upset, really, really upset, when he came back earlier and Severus had been really, really angry when he had left.

"Ok, thanks." Harry said and he turned in his seat.

"I don't think you should go after him, Harry." He said. "He's been in a pretty bad mood already and it's close to curfew too."

Well, Harry just gave him a curt nod and then left their quarters anyway. For a moment he wondered if he should go and call the smaller boy back, but then he noticed movement out of the corner of his eyes, catching a glimpse of Diagon scurrying out of their quarters too and he smiled.

Harry would be safe.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

He had taken a moment outside, taking a deep breath in the fresh air to calm his nerves before he would go back into the dungeons. He only would startle the children, and first of all Harry if he was awake already, what he nearly was sure of, if he came back with a temper like this. He also noticed that he needed a moment outside to take a deep breath of fresh air more often than he had during the past years and he growled at himself and his weakness. And nothing else it was, he knew that, because in the past he would have had a grip on himself whereas he now was unable to, the locked dungeons classroom coming to his mind whenever he was unable to take a breath of fresh air if needed, whenever he was unable to walk a few steps in the fresh air if needed.

It was weakness because in the past he would have huffed at himself and then he would have turned and gone to his office, to his classroom or to his quarters, anyplace down in the dungeons as long as it was away from the crowd of students and teachers. He was unable to now, since …

"One minute he hates you, then he has the chance to have you in his dungeons, and with no supervision at all so that he can do with you whatever he wants, and then – just all of a sudden he cares about you? Loves you even? That is not possible, Harry!" He heard Black's voice and with his blood running cold he turned and ran inside the castle, just to see the mutt with his hands on Harry's shirt, shaking him roughly.

He watched Harry trying to throw Black's hands off, but Black didn't seem to even notice.

"You better get your hands off the child, Black!" He hissed, calmly, softly, but he was heard as clearly as if he had screamed his command and already there were a few students coming closer. He didn't care about them right now, he would care about them later. Right now he just wanted his son out of Black's grip.

A moment later there was a shadow, falling over the great hall, darkening the very air around them and he held his breath, trying to keep Harry in sight. The shadow was followed by a small cry of pain, a cry not from a child however but from a man, and he frowned, taking another step forwards, trying to make out what had happened in the darkness that cleared.

Well, Black apparently loosened his hold in surprise when a large tabby cat had jumped him, running its claws deep into the man's shoulder and sharp little teeth into the man's neck. Harry had taken that opportunity to wriggle free and he waved the boy over without getting his eyes off the mangy mutt – and neither did Diagon, the animal sitting between the two front lines, its tail twitching nervously while the eyes were fixed on the mutt, warily, with a hint of – satisfaction.

Harry took a deep breath the moment he heard the deep and velvet voice calmly ordering Sirius to release him. He knew that voice. He would know that voice anywhere.

That was the voice he heard in every potions lesson, at home and at their new house table, it was the voice that had reassured him down in the dungeons classroom for three weeks, that had kept him sane and … it was the voice he heard whenever he needed someone to talk – or to just hold him and it was the voice that soothed him when he was scared, that gave him these small noises of approval when he had done something well, and it was the voice that said that he was proud of him, the first voice ever telling him that he was proud of him. It was Severus' voice, his father's voice.

"Don't, Harry!" Sirius growled and he jumped back, away from the man – unfortunately away from Severus a bit too. "Snape doesn't care about you, that's impossible!"

But surely it _was_ possible, wasn't it? That Severus cared about him? That he loved him? Maybe? But that at least he cared about him? Severus had said he did, hadn't he? But what if Sirius was right? And what if … suddenly a hand gripped his shoulder and for a moment he had the irrational feeling that he was in trouble, but when he turned to see Severus' face – his father didn't look at him angrily, but his angry black eyes were fixed on Sirius.

"_What _did you just say to my son?" He hissed, pushing Harry behind him a bit, out of Black's reach, holding the boy to his side while he stood between his son and the mutt. "Did you just tell _my son_ that it were impossible for anyone to care for him? That no one could love him?" Severus then thundered and for a moment Black actually backed away.

"Sorry." He heard Harry murmuring, feeling the child clutching his robes in a nearly desperate grip and he tightened his own grip on his son, pressing the boy's head against his side securely. "Sorry, 'm sorry, sir." The boy murmured on, clearly unable to get any other words out and he ran his thumb over the cold cheek in a gesture he hoped would be calming.

But well, apparently it wasn't calming for Black.

"Let him go, Snape!" The man hissed. He opened his mouth, maybe to say more, but Snape's eyes narrowed and the mutt's face fell. Instead he drew his wand, pointing it at him and he straightened.

"I suggest you take reason, Black, instead of starting a fight in the midst of the entrance hall and with a dozen students watching." He calmly said. "I will take my son now and leave for our quarters, Black." He just as calmly added, already turning, still keeping his body between Harry and Black.

"You won't, you bastard." Black hissed and he could feel the man taking a step closer. "You will get your bloody hands off my godson, that's what you'll do!"

Slowly he turned, lifting his eyebrow at Black and slowly he put his hand on Harry's shoulder, ready to push the boy out of harm's way while hoping that the child's grip on him wouldn't keep him close then.

"Don't touch him, you filthy bastard!" Black screamed at him and he could see a vein pulsing at the mutt's forehead. "He doesn't want you anyway! He's my godson! Get off him! Harry! Get away from him, Harry, he's …"

"Sirius!" Albus' voice rang through the entrance hall and he nearly breathed a sigh of relief, nearly. The mutt still had his wand pointed at him – and still Harry was close by and therefore in danger, seeing that the child refused to let go of him, of his robes.

"Sirius! Don't!" Came Lupin's voice, the wolf running after Albus, trying to catch his breath. He had known that the old headmaster would outrun a much younger person.

"Go on back to our rooms, Harry." He softly said. "I'll be down in a moment, I will just make sure that your god-mutt won't try something like that again."

"No … please …" The child murmured, tightening the hold he still had on him, around his waist, on his robes, and he sighed. If it were possible, he was sure that the boy would slip _into_ him, for Merlin's sake! How startled did the child has to be so that he refused to let go of him? He clearly needed to have a serious word with the child, about obeying to his orders in dangerous situations. On the other hand – if it was a simple dangerous situation, then the boy did obey, he already had learned so during their stay in the locked classroom – and if it was a more complicated dangerous situation during which the child was scared, then he wouldn't be able acting differently from this – never mind how many serious talks he'd had with him.

"Will you finally get your dirty hands off my godson, you eight-legged monster?" Black called again and he nearly growled at the man.

The child was scared of losing him, scared of his godfather who had shaken him, and he reacted in the only way he right now was able to after he had been denied this particular reaction for all his life – with clinging to someone for help.

"Who is holding him?" He asked, calmly, lifting his hands off his son's shoulders for a moment to show Black both his palms. "My son is clinging to me because he is scared of you, Black. I do not have to hold him because he seeks safety in my person – because he knows that actually I _do_ care, you imbecile. It is _you_ who hurt him!"

"Severus?" Albus asked and he nearly rolled his eyes, he definitely would have done if he weren't Severus Snape, but Severus Snape didn't roll his eyes – clearly not!

"He has in unmistakable terms told my son that I am incapable of any emotions towards the child, unable to care for him and only using Harry for my own dark intentions." He said, placing his hands back on the child's shoulders to give what reassurance he could give. "And if you now finally allowed me to get my son home so that maybe he finally could find some rest and peace, I would be so very grateful."

"Of course, Severus." Albus softly said. "Just take your son home, I'll care about the situation here."

"Good, because you'll have both hands full of work to keep Black out of prison this time." He growled angrily, tiredly. He wanted his son home and safe and he wished going home himself. "I don't care how you keep the mutt from my son, as long as you do. Let's get you home, Harry, it's late and surely you don't wish losing house-points because you are out in the corridors after curfew – and that goes for you other imbeciles too." He then added first to his son and then to the other students still standing around, looking.

"You're not Harry's boss, Snivellus!" Black called out, even while the wolf tried to calm the mutt.

"No, but I am his father! Diagon!" He hissed back, turning, calling the cat to follow them, and without another word he led the child and the animal – a cat with a tail held erect and proud – through the entrance hall and then down the staircase that led towards the dungeons and their home.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

It was late in the night when he woke by movement and without sitting up he slowly run his hand beneath his pillow. He already had his wand held in his hand when he noticed that it only was Harry, slipping into his bedroom, slowly, unsurely, coming closer to his bed and with releasing his breath he'd held for a moment he released his wand too and reached out instead to pull the child close.

And like back then, in that locked classroom where they had come close to begin with, he held the child in his arms, the boy's head resting on his upper arm like on a pillow and he listened to the hitched breathing getting regular, to the frantic heart beating getting calmer, until Harry had fallen asleep in his arms and he closed his eyes himself. Harry was safe from the mutt for now.

break ... ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ... line

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued<strong>

**Next time in A few days more**

_______________You may wish for things – but it's not said that they come true_______________

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too, thank you …

**House cup: **

At the present time it looks like this:

708 - Gryffindor - Head of House: Catlady

701 - Slytherin - Head of House: evil minded

576 - Ravenclaw - Head of House: Arithmancy Master

340 - Hufflepuff - Head of House: still a free post


	18. sleepless sorrow and hairy things

**Title:**

A few days more

Sequel to twenty-one days

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Fourth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

"A few days more" is the sequel to "Twenty-one days" – read and review this first or you wouldn't understand all that happens in this story.

The fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindors have survived their imprisonment in the potions classroom situated in the dungeons. How will they go on in all-day life after their survival? How will they manage to reintegrate into the castle's routine and their classes? How will they be able to go back to life at all? Watch how those who survived fight for their lives and for their peace, for their place in the community at Hogwarts.

**Disclaimer: **

Did you see Severus alive at the end of _'The deathly hallows'_? no?

Do you think I would have had him died if I had written those books? no?

Then you know that _'Harry Potter'_ does not belong to me … nor does Severus … regrettably … he belongs to J. K. Rowling …

But Hereweald Hrothgar does …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Warning:**

Story contains references to child abuse.

Child-abuse is a really serious thing, it is an evil thing and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help without being helped, and closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist, is no solution …

I only say - remind yourself of your feelings, of your sympathy, and of your understanding … and handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once being abused … with understanding and with help …

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me - I am …

* * *

><p>break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line<p>

**Previously in A few days more**

_It was late in the night when he woke by movement and without sitting up he slowly run his hand beneath his pillow. He already had his wand held in his hand when he noticed that it only was Harry, slipping into his bedroom, slowly, unsurely, coming closer to his bed and with releasing his breath he'd held for a moment he released his wand too and reached out instead to pull the child close._

_And like back then, in that locked classroom where they had come close to begin with, he held the child in his arms, the boy's head resting on his upper arm like on a pillow and he listened to the hitched breathing getting regular, to the frantic heart beating getting calmer, until Harry had fallen asleep in his arms and he closed his eyes himself. Harry was safe from the mutt for now._

**A few days more**

**Chapter eighteen **

**Day eighteen – ninth of October – Wednesday**

**Sleepless sorrow and hairy things**

Taking a deep breath he realized – he was awake.

But he wasn't laying in his bed where he belonged to, and frowning he turned, slowly opening his eyes – very slowly, just in case. It wasn't that they still hurt all the time, his dad had done a great job with them and he could see nearly as good as before, and they didn't hurt anymore, normally, but he already had noticed that – if he opened his eyes after sleep, he better did so slowly or his eyes would hurt for a long time, until after noon sometimes even and he didn't think that this would go any better soon.

It wasn't that he was angry with Ron because of that, not even about the fact that his lungs too had made some trouble every now and then since Ron had caused the potions accident down in their classroom. It was just – he couldn't bring himself to being as close to Ron as they had been once.

He knew that he wouldn't play Quidditch anymore, even though he every now and then asked Severus about it, but he knew that he wouldn't play anymore, because he barely could see anything that was farther away than – than … that would be as far away as a snitch could be, and he also had this scary sound in his chest whenever he did something that was a bit more strenuous than just walking along the corridors – or if he took a deeper breath than he should. Even simply walking up a flight of stairs made him wheezing and catching his breath and sometimes he actually had to stop and to lean against the wall after having managed such a flight of stairs, pressing his hand against his chest that hurt.

So it was no wonder that he couldn't bring himself to being as close to Ron as they had been before that.

He didn't even know why Ron had done it to begin with.

And now there was another person that wanted a place in his life but hurt him. And Sirius _had_ hurt him, there was no doubt about that. He had hurt him with what he had implied last night and he hadn't been able to sleep after that.

Groaning in frustration – yes, he had crept into his dad's bed, into Severus' bed, for Merlin's sake, to sleep in his father's arms. But well, even though it had taken him quite a long time to settle down before, in the man's arms he had fallen asleep rather soon and luckily he had been too tired for having nightmares – Severus Snape surely would have kicked him out of his bed.

"Stop struggling, Harry." Severus' voice growled into his ear and he stopped moving, holding his breath even, but Merlin, he had been sleeping well and he didn't mind the growl now.

The first thing the Potions Master realized was – there was something laying on his upper arm, using his arm as a pillow. And the second thing he noticed was – somehow he was cradling his pillow and the blasted thing was moving – he just pulled it closer to keep it from falling off the bed and to the floor, just to realize – the bloody pillow was no pillow at all but Harry who had come to his bed last night after his god-mutt had nearly strangled and abducted the boy and who had threatened him, Severus, with his wand pointed at him. Of course the boy would come to his bed after such an experience, Harry was a fourteen year old teenager, but due to the abuse and neglect, he sometimes rather reminded him at a four year old child.

Not that he had many experiences with four year old children, the only one he so far had known at that age had been Draco, seeing that he was the boy's godfather after all, but that surely didn't make him an expert on four year old, small children. And yet, while watching the boy holding his _breath_ even after he had told him to stop his struggling – he couldn't help thinking of a four year old.

"You do realize that breathing is a vital function of your body, Harry, and does not belong into the category of struggling?" He asked and the boy opened his eyes, looking up at him in a mixture of – being startled and sheepishly. Merlin, if the boy always would be startled so easily, then he would suffer a near heart attack for all his life. "I suggest we get up and ready for breakfast." He said, pushing the boy's upper body up and into a sitting position. "It is charms and transfiguration today, I think it will be an easier day than the one yester."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

They had barely finished breakfast in the great hall, Harry clearly very tiredly, as well as Adrian. The younger boy's first question had been – where Harry had been last night.

"In my bed." He had answered, with a suffering sigh, knowing that next time his son came to sleep in his bed – Adrian would soon be there too.

Cameron had started a conversion with Victor, but the other boy had been very monosyllabic, every now and then throwing a strange glance up at the head table where Karkaroff was sitting, at least throwing a strange glance up there whenever he allowed himself to get carried into the conversation and it was clear – the boy wanted contact with the children from Hogwarts, he just didn't dare because he feared Karkaroff and he narrowed his eyes at the other headmaster.

He would have to be very careful, but he would have a closer eye on the man.

"What is your special subject, Mr. Krum?" He asked, leaning back in his chair after having finished his own breakfast, enjoying his second cup of coffee which he drank slower now than the first. Most of the children were still eating and Harry had barely started on his cereals. He knew that the boy surely wouldn't take a toast too after he had finished them.

"It vas potions, Professor Snape." The boy answered and again there was that glance at the head table.

"It _was_, Mr. Krum?" He asked, his eyebrow lifted. "There is no need to seek confirmation – or permission – from your headmaster, boy, I won't harm you. Nor will any of my students."

"I know you von't." The boy answered, shrugging, concentrating on his cup of coffee too – clearly anything than looking up at the head table again, now that he was discovered. "It vas, because potions is no permitted as – vot do you call it? Education?"

"An apprenticeship." He answered, nodding his head. "I see. And you would have liked starting an apprenticeship in the fields of potions."

"I vanted to become a Master." The boy said, his voice nearly sounding angry – yet, he could hear pride in the voice too and the boy even straightened a bit.

"I see." He said again. "What have you started concentrating on instead of potions now? It is your seventh year after all and you had to chose added subjects."

"Not at Durmstrang, Professor." The boy shook his head. "In Durmstrang ve do start training only after our seventh year. Professor Karkaroff has me listed in a institution that teaches dark arts."

"And you do not wish this, according to your tone of voice." He said, lifting his eyebrows while Harry and a few others looked between them and Karkaroff, a dark shadow going over the pale faces.

Victor Krum leaned back in his chair, watching him with his eyes narrowed before he took a deep breath.

"Professor Karkaroff has told me how much he enjoys meeting you again, Professor Snape." The boy then said. "He has told me that you and he vere close friends, and that you share his view on the dark arts. Yet I find you not enjoying his being here as much as he said and even if I vill get into trouble, I vill not lie to you. So, no, I do not vant to go to that institution. But he is my professor and I haf no other chance than obeying him. Good day, Professor."

And with these words the boy got off his chair and left.

It was now or never and he knew it.

"Krum!" He ordered, sharply, getting off his chair too. He stood straight and tall, his head held high and his dark eyes cold, knowing that he startled some of his children but hoping that they would trust him enough to – to not being scared, to learn, to … he didn't know to what.

But well, it had an effect and Krum stopped, slowly turning around – while at the same time Karkaroff seemed to listen closely too.

"Do not leave this table without permission and surely not with as much disrespect as you have shown, because here I too am your Professor as long as you attend Hogwarts." He growled at the boy. "And now you get your pitiful backside back here, sit down and wait until your housemates have finished their breakfast. Now!"

Of course Krum didn't object to his command, not even asking him where he had been disrespectful – he obeyed like the good and quiet student Karkaroff had raised – and looking up at the head table for a moment he could see the satisfied smirk on Karkaroff's face – but well, he had made his point and he had made it clear that, the boy was a housemate of _his_ students now, and therefore his student too, a student of his house – sort of.

"You do not have to fear any harm from my side, Victor." He said, more softly while sitting back down too. "I have just made sure that your headmaster believes me performing as much control over you as does he, what gives you the freedom to move freely in my presence, to partake in any conversations at this table here without fear and to have him not questioning about what has happened between you and me. And you, continue eating, Harry. I have been playing an act, noting else."

Well, there wasn't anyone saying anything – except for Krum murmuring a soft "thank you, Professor".

It was Poppy who was the next person speaking up around their table and inwardly he already groaned – why did Poppy _now_ think that he had overreacted? If that bloody woman only _once_ in a while would let him acting the way he thought it was important. But no – she always interfered, fearing that he was too harsh with the students and therefore getting in his way of handling his students, just for having to apologize later towards him when learning that his actions at that precise time did have a reason.

"Severus!" The woman said, softly, leaning down to him. "Molly flooed over to the infirmary and she has Ginevra with her."

"I'm coming." He said, placing his cup at the table and getting up. "Excuse me." He then said, addressing his students. "I have something to take care of. I expect you to go to your classes and should I not be back until lunch, then I expect you all to look out for each other during the meal. Mr. Krum, I expect you here for lunch too, even though should I not be present."

He cast a long look at the children, one by one, Harry especially, trying to find out if the boy was too startled for classes by his behaviour earlier that surely must have reminded him at the Severus Snape who had made his potions lessons a living hell back during the past three years. But except of being paler than normally recently, the boy seemed alright and gave him a nod in return, a calm nod, not a scared one and he was satisfied.

Turning he left the hall with his usual harsh gait.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Victor regarded the students on the table he had chosen with hidden eyes.

They were a strange mixture. He knew that they were all in the same class, but there were some that were older and there were children that were younger and to his knowledge England did not hold mixed classes in their schools. English children got educated according to their age – these children here were mixed up. Different genders, different nations as far as he could tell, there even was one black boy, and different ages, most likely different religions too – so, what did these children have in common so that they were all together in not only one small – much smaller than the others – house, and in one class too?

The only common thing was that they all looked thin and ill somehow and he remembered what Professor Snape had said, Sunday morning when they had come to Hogwarts, that some of these students had been neglected and abused, that there had been an accident and that they had been imprisoned. But who would imprison children? And one of them, he thought that it was the son of the Professor, because they looked very much alike and Professor Snape was not only overly protective of this boy but very caring too, and that boy nearly had died, Professor Snape had said so.

So – was this the house for the ill children? The school matron had come and said something to the Professor and then he had left, it would fit, because he never seemed to leave the table early. But if this was the house for the ill children, then why were there no children with other illnesses? With a broken leg? Or Dragon pox?

And if this was the house for the ill children, then why would Professor Snape of all people be the head of that house? He had heard of Professor Snape of course, and not only from Professor Karkaroff. His headmaster seemed even obsessed with Professor Snape but he had heard of the English Professor from others too, the man was a loyal and very cold and harsh follower of the Dark Lord, a dark man that didn't step short before murder.

Not that Professor Karkaroff was better and he was the headmaster of a school with children, but Professor Karkaroff didn't care about the weak and the ill children. If he ever came running to the man, crying about one or another thing, then the headmaster rather would beat him to health instead of caring for anything. And Professor Snape was Professor Karkaroff's ideal – _because_ he was so cold and harsh, because he was ready to ruthlessly kill.

What if Professor Karkaroff knew that Professor Snape only – only what? Played a role? Or had two personalities? The one that was the cold and rough person and the one that was caring and worrying? Professor Karkaroff would be very disappointed – and angry.

He wouldn't tell him, of course not, he was not stupid enough to do that – not to mention that, Professor Snape gave him the freedom he always had wanted, the freedom Professor Karkaroff had never allowed him, the freedom to – to think, and to think what he wanted to think, to think on his own, to – to live.

It wouldn't last, he knew that, he wasn't stupid after all, he either would be chosen or he would die, and if he was chosen then he better won this tournament or he would die, and if he won that tournament, then they would leave and Professor Karkaroff would take him back to Durmstrang. But as long as it lasted, he would enjoy the freedom Professor Snape had created for him.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Poppy." He greeted upon reaching the hospital wing. "Molly."

"I don't understand, Poppy." Molly said and he lifted his eyebrow. "Why would you want to see Ginny, Severus?"

"Calm down, Molly." He answered, softly. "I wished to see Ginevra because she has been ill enough to be sent home by Poppy upon her brother being missed, and seeing that I am the head of these children that suffer under these weeks, the ones locked up as well as the ones missing friends or family – that does not really make a difference – I just wanted to make sure that your daughter is really ready for the all-day life at this school, Molly. The other option would be to integrate her into the group of students that has formed the fifth house of Hogwarts."

"You mean, taking Ginny out of Gryffindor?" Molly asked, pulling the girl closer.

"Yes, I mean taking the girl out of Gryffindor, temporarily if this is amenable with you, permanently if need be – and with your permission of course." He said, watching mother and daughter exchanging a glance. "Come with me, Ginevra." He simply said, taking matters into his hand. If he waited for Molly's permission, he would wait until next year, seeing that the woman didn't seem to understand.

It wasn't that Molly and him didn't go along well, Arthur and Molly Weasley were – despite their children grating on his nerves like barely any other children – something like friends, but in Molly's eyes he was just a teacher, a Potions Master, yes, but only a teacher, not a healer, not one who knew about the human body and mind and how to either destroy both or to keep both safe and healthy.

"You go with Severus, Miss Weasley, I need to have a few words with your mother anyway." Poppy said and he was very grateful for her help. He placed his hand on the girl's shoulder to lead her away from her mother, entering Poppy's office and closing he door behind them.

"Sit down, Ginevra." He said. "You have been at home for a few weeks now." He started, coming to the point at once, like always. "And now you think you are ready to visit school again. Are you sure about that? There is no need for haste after all."

"Mum said I should go back to school or I would miss too much and then I wouldn't pass the exams." The girl answered, frowning at him and he nodded. Of course Molly would be worried about that, she was a very responsible mother after all and she cared about the education of her children.

"And she is correct in that, Ginevra." He said, waving his wand and two cups of tea appeared. He gave one of the cups to the girl before he sat halfway onto Poppy's desk, nearly enjoying the startled look on the girl's face for a moment. "But even if you wouldn't pass your end of year exams, then you still could do them next year. You wouldn't be the first student who did the year a second time."

"Mum wouldn't like this." The girl sighed.

"Most likely not." He answered. "But if you now come back to school before you are really ready to, you wouldn't be able to go through the year without struggling – with the result that you most likely would not pass your end of year exams anyway – your struggle would have been for nothing then."

"You know, it's strange, sir, you of all people saying that." The girl frowned at him and he lifted his eyebrow.

"Yes, I can see your point, Miss Weasley, but I do have more than one intentions." He took a sip of the tea. "One is, I rather have you at school healthy and with the knowledge that I don't have to keep an eye on you instead of ill, and the second is – you are sister and friend to some of my students and in their own health I wish to keep them from worrying and from being distracted with an ill and struggling friend and sister. Another intent is – I got responsibility over any students that are affected by the imprisonment of the fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindors. So I do ask _you_ – do _you_ feel well enough to visit school and to go back to the all-day life at the castle without having to struggle?"

"I don't really know." Miss Weasley said. "I don't really think that I'm ready, but I've been home for too long and I … I just don't know, and mum said it's about time and …"

"I see." He said. "Drink your tea, Ginevra. You haven't seen your brother since breakfast on the first day of school, you haven't been here to see him when your mother came a few weeks ago."

The girl only shook her head.

"Why not?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

"Mum said that Ron needed peace and rest and that I could see him later." Miss Weasley answered and he nodded. He had known this answer would come.

"I think, you would manage, but not if you were thrown back into the crowd of students." He finally said, placing his cup at the table. "What I can offer you is a place at my house for a few weeks until you have caught up with the other students. You could learn individually like the other students I have and this way you could easily catch up at your own pace."

"And what if I won't manage?"

"Then you simply won't manage, it won't be the end of the world."

"I'd very much like that, but I don't think mum would like it."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"I don't understand this, Poppy." Molly asked. "What is Severus doing with Ginny?"

"I'm sure he has already cast a diagnostic charm and he is simply talking with Ginny." Poppy answered, sighing. She knew that the Weasleys were not openly against Severus, that they got along, but sometimes Molly was a mother hen, at least when it came to her sons. If only she were as worrying about Ginevra. Of course she worried about her daughter too, but after having raised six sons, she didn't really know what a girl in Ginevra's position, as the only girl in the family, needed.

However, her trust in Severus was far from being – too deep.

"But why?" Molly asked, wringing her hands. "You have already cast a diagnostic. Why should a teacher cast one again? And why can't he do so here?"

"Because I wanted a word with Ginevra in privacy, Molly, without you hovering over her and having an influence on her answers." Severus' voice came from the office and she watched the two coming back, the girl being worried and Severus wearing his ever present mask that didn't allow her to read anything in his face. "I wanted to hear from your daughter how she felt about school, not what you thought the girl should think. And yes, I have cast a diagnostic too, and I am not really satisfied."

"I know that Ginny is still too thin, but she's much better." Molly said, taking a deep breath.

"I do not doubt your care, Molly, do not misunderstand me, but it is a fact that your daughter is not ready for school yet." He said. "She first should get the chance to finally see her brother for real, with her own eyes so that she finally can heal, Molly. She is not one of your boys who are tougher than that and even they have suffered. Your twins have lost too much weight for my liking as well and now imagine what this all has done to your daughter."

"Oh, Merlin, Severus!" Molly gasped, looking down at the girl, horrified and again she was amazed at how Severus managed saying the inevitable to the parents, even though it could be taken as an offence, that man simply didn't care. But well, at least _she_ didn't have to tell them. "Have I really … oh, Merlin, I'm so sorry, Ginny, dear! I didn't think that …"

"Severus?" She asked, waving the man a few steps aside.

"I have found nothing you have not found too." He answered. "I'm just worried about how slow the girl's health goes. The other children in her position are far healthier already and so should be Miss Weasley. I think she desperately needs to see her brother and then she desperately either needs a small house where her needs are seen and attended to or homeschooling where her mother can concentrate on her solely – except of that, the usual potions, nutrient potions and relaxing potions, and a lot of rest and sleep."

"Strengthening potion?" She suggested, even if she already knew Severus' answer, she knew the man after all. She just wanted to make sure.

"No, I rather had her recovering slowly than in a rash and then risking a relapse." The Potions Master affirmed, like she'd known he would.

"But what do we do now?" She heard Molly asking and she turned, sighing. It was always bad to tell some parents that they should keep their children out of school for longer, but doing so with people she knew and liked was just the harder. But again Severus was there.

"I can offer a place in my house for Ginevra, a small house with just twenty-one students at the present time." Severus said, his face still a stony mask and his black eyes resting on Molly calmly. "That would give her the chance to being seen and not disappear in the crowd while it gave her the chance to catch up on her own pace. And it could be for a few weeks only, it doesn't have to be permanent. The other option I would suggest is – you keep Ginevra at home for a bit longer after she has seen her brother. She needs this chance to understand and to believe completely. She needs to see Ronald and she needs to touch him to know that he is alive for real. This is vital, Molly. And _only after that_ your daughter can heal but she will need more rest than she would have in this blasted lion tower and a smaller house would provide this rest. It is your decision Molly, but you have to make this decision soon, before you throw your daughter into the crowd of students that will choke her."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Go and get socks, Harry, and preferably socks in pairs." He growled, taking the boy on his shoulder and leading him into his room. "You are cold enough already even _with_ socks on your feet and you are running along these halls with bare feet? Are you deliberately risking to catch a cold, child? And what's it with this drawer again, Harry? I have sorted your socks, all of them, into pairs last night and now look at this."

"Dunno, sir." The boy said, taking a step back and he took a deep breath to calm himself, realizing that – there was something wrong and he was scaring the child. "It already was like this when I needed socks this morning. But I didn't do it, really, I swear, sir."

"Calm down, Harry." He said, slowly reaching out and taking Harry's shoulder. "Take a deep breath and calm down. I am not angry, I just would like to know why your drawer is such a muss, it isn't the first time after all and it isn't like you either, seeing that your room generally is very tidy. There has to be a reason and I would like to know it."

"But … but I don't know it, sir!" The boy still said, allowing him to pull him close but not really relaxing. "I haven't done this and I … I don't know why they always get mixed up."

"Hush now, child." He softly soothed, his hand running calming circles over the boy's back. "Why don't you let me in, child, and then we could see what happened to this drawer?" He softly asked. There was nothing for a while, only the child trying to _not_ sob in his arms and he waited. But then the boy nodded his head, clearly tiredly, clearly scared, but he did give his permission and gently he placed his hand over the boy's forehead, pulling him into a more comfortable position in his arms before he slowly entered the child's mind.

He knew that most likely he shouldn't do it, but it wasn't the first time that the drawer was in such a disarray, all – _really_ all of the socks being pulled out of the pair and he knew – such a thing didn't happen by accident, nor by simply taking a pair of socks to wear this morning. And Harry had said that it had already been like this in the morning anyway, when he had taken a pair of socks to wear.

He could see Harry standing in front of his shelf, pulling out the drawer and – without being startled by the socks being in a disarray again – taking two socks, at random, not minding if they would belong together or not and he frowned. So, Harry definitely had been correct, and the drawer of socks had already _been_ a mess in the morning when he had taken out his socks, but that didn't explain how it had happened in the first place – and why Harry didn't seem bothered by it.

Going further back, to the night, he watched Harry getting off his bed, slowly and sleepily shuffling towards the shelf and pulling out the drawer. He easily could see the boy's half lidded eyes, sleepy eyes, and he knew – Harry wasn't awake. With slow and unsure movements the boy took the socks and divided the pairs, placing the sole socks back into the drawer until he had them all in – the disarray he had found them earlier.

He could feel the boy in his arms stirring, getting nervous and trying to wriggle out of his arms and gently he tightened his grip. He knew that there had to be more to it and so he sipped through the memories again, ignoring the past few months but going back in time a few years, concentrating on socks.

He knew that Harry would not lie to him. He would have thought so a few weeks ago, before he had known the boy better, but now – he knew that Harry wouldn't lie to him. The boy did everything to please him, did everything to make things alright, to make things perfect, to do _exactly_ like he thought he, Severus, expected him to – he knew that there had to be more to it.

And well, he had been correct.

One scene sticking out and he already had shifted it to the side but went back to watch it, Harry in his arms meanwhile clearly scared and he again tightened his grip, running his thumb over the boy's eyebrows in what he hoped was a calming gesture, trying to tell his son that it was alright without breaking concentration on the scene.

He could see the boy – the boy in the scene – being, again, ridiculed by his uncle when the obese whale of a man looked down at Harry's feet. Immediately Dursley stopped his rant, got deathly silent and he could feel the fear the child in the memory radiated, taking a step back from his uncle.

"You little thief." The man then thundered, grabbing the boy and pulling him close before Harry cold run away, even though he wasn't sure if the boy really would have run, even if he looked like he wished doing just that, but he knew that most likely the child would have been too scared to run from his uncle – or too reasonable, knowing that it only would worsen the situation.

"I haven't …" The boy started with rattling teeth while the man shook him roughly.

"You have stolen Dudley's socks, you bloody thief!" Dursley screamed, starting to pull off the boy's clothes between hitting the boy wherever he could reach him. "You thought I wouldn't notice, you little freak? You thought I wouldn't see you wearing a pair of my son's socks? I've never given you a pair and you have stolen it from my son you freaky little thief!" The man screamed at the top of his lungs while pulling the last pieces of clothing from the boy's body, all the while beating and kicking at him. "I'll show you what happens with dirty little thieves, I'll teach you a lesson you'll never ever forget in your bloody worthless life! You better prepare for a few less comfortable nights. I should have done this before! I should've never given you such a nice and comfortable cupboard or any clothes to begin with and you'll rue the day you have stolen clothes from my son!"

"I haven't … they're no pair … they …" The reminder of the sentence was drown in piercing screams when Dursley grabbed for a cane and started beating the boy for real. He would have liked nothing more than leaving the memory at that, but he knew that first – he had to know what had happened, second – Harry was with him and even though he had not planned it, at least for this one event of abuse the child had right now the chance to deal with it, and with his help, and third – he couldn't leave a child's mind so abruptly anyway.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Hush, child." He whispered, while cradling the boy to his chest, one hand resting on the shaking back and one hand resting on the hot and wet face of his son while he tried to comfort the child. He had left the boy's mind slowly after he had seen enough, Dursley beating the maybe seven year old with a cane until blood was drawn, an explanation for all the scars he had seen on the child's body that day when Weasley had attacked Harry.

"How long?" He asked, softly – and not for the first time since he had left Harry's mind. "How long had he kept you down there, child?"

Dursley had dragged the boy outside – the naked boy, mind you – locking him into a shed behind their house. "You'll learn to appreciate the clothes you're given with kissing our feet, you dirty little thief!" Dursley had said. "I'll leave you in there until you have learned to lick my ass for clothes, and you better don't scream for help, because no one will come and if you do, then I'll skin you alive! I'll cut you into so small pieces, not even your worthless parents would recognize you the moment you meet them!"

He was sure that Harry had believed every word Dursley had threatened the boy with, because the child was too scared, already knowing what his uncle was capable of. Of course the child would believe those words, would not call for help, even if it was winter, snow rippling in through a hole in the roof of the shed in a peaceful but deathly pattern – deathly for a naked child that was trapped in a bloody hole in the ground of the shed, without any cover, without anything to warm him, without any meat on his bones that could keep him alive for at least a few hours. The shed may have kept the wind from the child, and in the hole the child might have curled up into a protective ball to keep up any body warmth as long as possible, but not even that small place could have kept the cold away and he was sure that – again, it only had been Harry's magic that had kept him alive, the Lord's will, but surely not Dursley's luck or mercy.

"D'nno …" The boy sobbed out, his entire body shaking as if he were in that shed right now.

Of course Harry wouldn't remember. Knowing what Dursley had been able to, and remembering the feeling of the memory, the emotions in them, he knew that it surely had been more than just one night. It had felt as if it had been at least one _more_ day and night. He would cast a memory diagnostic as soon as possible, a charm that would show old injuries – a charm that would show old burns and frostbites too.

"You will never have to fear anything like this, Harry." He whispered, not even knowing what to say. What did you say to a child that had been mishandled like this, that had been abused so badly, that had been tortured like this? And nothing else than torture it had been, throwing a child into a hole in the ground, without clothes or any other cower, in the midst of winter. Nothing else had it been than torture. What did you say? There was nothing to say, because no words could undo the harm, the pain and the fear the child had felt, no words could undo what had been done to that child over the years and he settled back, murmuring meaningless things while cradling his son to his chest and running his hand over the hot and wet face, trying to give as much comfort as he _could_ give.

It was Diagon however who was able to finally pull the child out and back to actively moving, the animal coming over and first nudging the boy's hands with his nose and then starting to nibble on the boy's fingers when Harry didn't react.

Harry then pulled the large cat close and into his arms, tightly, his thin arms barely able to hold the animal but anyway Diagon gave a choked sound away for a moment and he already thought that the beast would surely attack the child for choking him, was ready to interfere, but the desert cat only twisted into a more comfortable position in the boy's arms, allowing the surely too tight hold, allowing the boy's fingers curling into the animal's fur, surely pulling hair, Diagon didn't seem to mind.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

It was late in the night when Harry finally had calmed down in his arms.

Diagon was already gone and he had thought that surely the boy had fallen asleep – he hadn't dared releasing him anyway, not now, not in this particular situation, not while a healing process had started, one of the many healing processes that surely would come with the time. He had been ready to sit there on the floor for the remainder of the night, in Harry's room.

He had sent Adrian over to Draco and Theodore and even though the boy had obeyed, it had been clear that he had not been happy about it, the second night he had to sleep without Harry being close by – but surely he would not use legillimence upon another child being in the room to distract him. Not to mention that barely someone knew that he was a Master of legillimence and he wanted it to stay that way for as long as possible.

"Dad?" Harry asked, softly, and he looked down at the child in his arms. He had been sure that the boy had fallen asleep, but apparently – he hadn't. "'m sorry, dad." The boy said and he sighed. Of course the child would apologize, like he always did and again – not for the first time – he wondered how it was, that the Dursleys could so badly hurt such a polite and obedient child that had done nothing – how he had been able to hurt such a friendly child as was Harry.

"There is no need to apologize, child." He said. "Remember what I told you, a few weeks ago? You will not apologize for things that are not your fault – and the way the Dursleys mistreated and abused you is surely not your fault at all. Do you hear?"

Well, the only thing he got was a weak nodding but that would have to do for the moment.

"Dad?" The boy then asked again, softly and again he looked down at his son, questioningly. "What did Sirius mean when he called you an eight-leg?"

Groaning he closed his eyes for a moment.

Of all the things his son could have asked … of all the things …

Even if he had asked how many people he had killed under the Dark Lord's command …

Even if he had asked how many people he had tortured under the Dark Lord's command …

Even if he …

How was he to explain _that_ to his son without startling him to death? How could he explain _that_ to his son without scaring the boy away from him as far as possible? Without having his son grimacing at him in disgust and repulsion whenever he would look at him in future? Harry wouldn't look at him ever again, wouldn't allow him to touch him ever again, to hold him ever again. Most likely the boy would demand leaving these quarters.

It wasn't that Harry would have no place to sleep, he always could go back to his tower. And it wasn't that he would loose his son out of sight, he could keep an eye on the boy from the far distance they were at the same school after all, the boy as a student and he as a teacher. But he knew that – he would miss it, he would … he had gotten used to the child.

It wasn't that he _loved_ him, surely not! He was Severus Snape after all and Severus Snape didn't love people, no one, but he had gotten _used_ to the child and he would miss it.

So, maybe he just told the boy that this was none of his business? He knew that Harry wouldn't ask a second time if he told the boy off.

"'m sorry, dad." Was Harry's next comment even before he had been able to say something – and he knew, that wasn't the right way to act. He should trust in his son, it was what he expected of the child after all, to trust him.

But with something like that?

It wasn't as if his animagus form were a snake, or a rat, or maybe even a fly on the wall – no! Absolutely not!

"There is no need to be, Harry." He said. "Don't be scared, I won't harm you." And with a deep sigh he shifted the child in his arms a bit before he shifted into his animagus form, ready for everything, ready for losing the child with the action, ready to have Harry running away from him, screaming, seeing that his animagus form was a bloody spider! A hairy, eight-legged thing!

Well, the child actually gave a startled scream away the moment he held the small and thin body between the long and hairy limbs, the eight legs curled around the child in a way the boy hopefully would not take as a threatening or capturing hold but a protective one – green eyes going larger than he ever had seen them and the boy looked him over with his mouth hanging open – but then there actually was a _smile_ on the pale face appearing, the boy calming down rather quickly and then … the bloody brat actually _snuggled_ deeper into the knot that were his limbs and he himself relaxed.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Harry's first impulse was to run, remembering the giant spider, the acromantula, Aragog, that lived in the forbidden forest and again he knew _why_ the forbidden forest was forbidden to students. And _he_ knew that best. He'd been in there often enough, even if he never had been in there freely. But whenever he had been in there, there had been things happening which he wished to forget – and the encounter with Aragog was one of these moments.

The next thought was – Severus was Aragog and so he knew what had happened in their second year. So that had been the reason as to why Aragog had not killed them and for a split second he even got angry at the beginning of the though that – Severus had scared them to death. But the thought was gone before he even had thought it and then he recognized the differences in Aragog and Severus.

Severus was slightly smaller than the acromantula had been and there were no poisoning fangs either. Where Aragog had made those bloody and scary clicking noises, Severus held him absolutely silently, too many black eyes watching him intently, nearly scared, as if he feared he would refuse him, now, that he knew.

But he didn't.

He had been startled for a moment, yes, but he wasn't scared of spiders generally.

He'd been scared of _Aragog_, after the bloody acromantula had told him – Hagrid's friends or not, his children were hungry and he would not deny them food that came to them so willingly. But generally he was not scared of spiders, not even of the larger ones. He had been living with spiders in the cupboard, for years and years, spiders of all form and colour and sizes. There he had learned the difference between a spider and a daddy-longlegs. He always had liked the term daddy-longlegs, because they – they had something to do with … daddies, with parents, with something he didn't have. But he had liked the spiders better anyway, because the daddy-longlegs always had fled him whereas the spiders had learned to come closer with time. And they hadn't died so soon either. And they had eaten the pest called mosquitoes during summer. They always had found their way into his cupboard, only Merlin knew why, and he had not dared using the insect spray aunt Petunia had kept on one of the shelves in his cupboard, because he would have killed the spiders and the daddy-longlegs too then.

And now he had a large daddy-spider.

Smiling he snuggled into the legs that were surrounding him, searching for a comfortable position while he ran one hand over the hairy leg before placing his head onto the thing, closing his eyes.

break ... ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ... line

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued<strong>

**Next time in A few days more**

________________Shoes again, jealousy and cheese________________

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too, thank you …

**House cup: **

At the present time it looks like this:

708 - Gryffindor - Head of House: Catlady

701 - Slytherin - Head of House: evil minded

576 - Ravenclaw - Head of House: Arithmancy Master

340 - Hufflepuff - Head of House: still a free post


	19. jealousy at its finest

**Title:**

A few days more

Sequel to twenty-one days

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Fourth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

"A few days more" is the sequel to "Twenty-one days" – read and review this first or you wouldn't understand all that happens in this story.

The fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindors have survived their imprisonment in the potions classroom situated in the dungeons. How will they go on in all-day life after their survival? How will they manage to reintegrate into the castle's routine and their classes? How will they be able to go back to life at all? Watch how those who survived fight for their lives and for their peace, for their place in the community at Hogwarts.

**Disclaimer: **

Did you see Severus alive at the end of _'The deathly hallows'_? no?

Do you think I would have had him died if I had written those books? no?

Then you know that _'Harry Potter'_ does not belong to me … nor does Severus … regrettably … he belongs to J. K. Rowling …

But Hereweald Hrothgar does …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

Neither yesterday nor the day before yesterday have been really good days, nor have any other days since last week, I have a relapse concerning my speaking disorder – in other words, communication has become rather difficult again. Not a problem here, some might say, it isn't for the first time after all and you all should be used to, but back then I hadn't had a life, I've had no job, I've had not many friends, I haven't left my house at all … right now I do have a life, one that I have built up during the past let me say four or five years – and now I can watch how this life slowly but surely starts crumbling like a house of cards … many of my students have taken a step back and stopped lessons, friends are stopping visits, I'm on the school board – I'm not sure how to communicate with the others on the board without looking stupid … I don't know so many things these days …

well, long story short – all in all, I just wanted to ask – you might forgive me, if the chapters 19 and 20 might be shorter than you are used to, because I just need more time for getting them on the "paper" … next Month NaNo is starting anyway, and during this time I'll update an already written story, so that will be more comfortable for you then, I guess … thanks for your understanding and I'll do my best anyway … of course …

**Warning:**

Story contains references to child abuse.

Child-abuse is a really serious thing, it is an evil thing and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help without being helped, and closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist, is no solution …

I only say - remind yourself of your feelings, of your sympathy, and of your understanding … and handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once being abused … with understanding and with help …

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me - I am …

* * *

><p>break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line<p>

**Previously in A few days more**

_He had been startled for a moment, yes, but he wasn't scared of spiders generally. _

_He'd been scared of Aragog, after the bloody acromantula had told him – Hagrid's friends or not, his children were hungry and he would not deny them food that came to them so willingly. But generally he was not scared of spiders, not even of the larger ones. He had been living with spiders in the cupboard, for years and years, spiders of all form and colour and sizes. There he had learned the difference between a spider and a daddy-longlegs. He always had liked the term daddy-longlegs, because they – they had something to do with … daddies, with parents, with something he didn't have. But he had liked the spiders better anyway, because the daddy-longlegs always had fled him whereas the spiders had learned to come closer with time. And they hadn't died so soon either. And they had eaten the pest called mosquitoes during summer which always had found their way into his cupboard, only Merlin knew why, and he had not dared using the insect spray, because he would have killed the spiders and the daddy-longlegs too then. _

_And now he had a large daddy-spider. _

_Smiling he snuggled into the legs that were surrounding him, holding him protectively, searching for a comfortable position while he ran one hand over the hairy leg before placing his head onto the thing, closing his eyes. _

**A few days more**

**Chapter nineteen **

**Day nineteen – tenth of October – Thursday**

**Jealousy – at its finest**

Watching Harry leaving his room and shuffling over to him, sitting at the sofa beside him and pulling up his feet, leaning against his shoulder, the Potions Master remembered the last night – and what he had done.

Merlin – he had shown the boy – he actually had shown the boy his animagus form!

Laying his arm around his son's shoulders, carefully, he pulled the boy close and looked down into the pale face. Well, at least the boy had slept for about an hour, considering the sleepy and crinkled face that rather looked like a pillow than like a face right now, he had feared that the child wouldn't sleep after charms, ancient runes and lunch today.

Sighing he leaned back against the backrest of the sofa, pulling the boy with him and waiting – they had enough time until the other children were all awake from their – afternoon nap – and ready for their meeting.

Well, admittedly, Harry had not been scared last night, had not fled him. That bloody boy had – s_nuggled_ into his – _embrace_, had played with the hair that covered his spider-legs until he had fallen asleep without pulling too much so that it hadn't hurt. He had been lucky, because it also could have been differently, the child being scared to death and running as far as possible, screaming, keeping him as far away as possible.

Just imagine – you open your eyes and you are cradled by a giant spider! What a horrifying thought! What had he been thinking last night? He was lucky that his son had reacted so well to it, but it had been a stupid thing to do in the first place and he shouldn't have done it.

"Dad?" Said boy asked and he stopped the hand that was running through the black hair of the child, looking down questioningly. "Don't you think that Mrs. Weasley should have allowed Ginny to attend this house here?"

"I am sure that, whatever reason Mrs. Weasley had to keep her daughter in Gryffindor, it had been a good reason and it is not our place to question her decisions." He answered, frowning down at the child.

"I know." Harry answered and the child sounded serious. "But you know, she made a lot of wind about Ron being prefect. Ron told me once that, with older brothers they have set a standard and you better didn't do worse than they had done or your family would be disappointed in you, but if you lived up to their standard, then it wouldn't be something to make a fuss over either, because they had done it before you. And now Ron is prefect, after Percy was prefect and Charley too, but Mrs. Weasley _did_ make a lot of fuss about it. Ginny came back to Hogwarts, to learn, so that she wouldn't disappoint her mother, but for Mrs. Weasley it seemed to be the most normal thing of the world. I think she cares more about Ron than about Ginny, but Ginny is ill too."

"I do see your point." He said, shifting the boy in his arms so that Harry leaned with his back against his chest and he started massaging the boy's lower arms. "But it is not our place to judge this as long as Ginevra doesn't take harm. I will have an eye on her anyway. I am the resident Potions Master after all, and so I do have access to the infirmary. You should be happy for your friend, that his mother had been so proud of her despite his worries."

**Flashback**

_"Oh, my poor baby! My poor but strong Ronikins!" Molly screeched upon storming into the great hall and he grimaced. "I am so proud of you, Ronikins, so proud! What you've been through and then you have become a prefect! Percy would be so proud of you too, as would be Charley! And your father! He told me to make sure you're alright, Ronikins! Had I known how proud you'd make me one day …"_

_Well, they didn't learn what Molly would have done had she known, because the woman was sobbing too hard to go on in her outburst._

_Getting off his chair he met the woman before she could reach her son and smother him to death, taking her shoulders and slowing down her march. The last thing he needed right now was the bloody woman breaking down upon the boy who already had buried his bright red face between his arms he had laying on the table – while Ginevra was silently slipping away to the Gryffindor table, unnoticed, and he frowned. _

_Molly seemed to have forgotten about her daughter, upon seeing her youngest son._

_"I do understand your feelings, Molly, but please do try to get a grip at yourself, you are making a scene." He whispered while allowing the woman closer to their table._

_Well, the woman actually got calmer, until her eyes fell on Harry._

_"Oh, and Harry, my dear boy!" The woman started sobbing anew. "I am so …"_

_"Molly, please." He said, more firm this time. "You are scaring the children."_

_"But my Ronikins." Molly sobbed. "And poor Harry …"_

_"Molly!" He softly hissed upon seeing Harry's distress, the boy already searching for an escape route. "Get a grip on yourself, woman, before you cause more harm than good!" Merlin, the woman was worse than was Maria from St. Mungos!_

**End flashback**

Well, his irritable hiss had caused Molly to look at him angrily, but at least she had stopped her utterly impossible behaviour.

"I am, in a way." Harry answered, and he looked down at the child, frowning. "But not as much as I would have in the past."

There was a pause, but he didn't dare giving away a comment, knowing that there was something the child wanted to say while he at the same time seemed unsure about how to say it, or where to begin.

"Look, dad, I know that I always got more attention than Ron." The boy started and his frown deepened. The way the child had started what was on his mind, it sounded as if he tried to defend himself. "I never liked it, I hated it, but I couldn't change it, just because I'm – _the boy who lived_. But I always hated it, and Ron knew that I hated it. I always knew that Ron was jealous, kind of, because of it, because he wanted as much attention and I always could understand that, with so many older brothers – but down there, in the potions classroom, while we've been locked, you know, I've seen a new side on Ron and I don't know how to handle this. I've never said something, but …"

"But what, child?" He asked when it was clear that Harry wouldn't continue. "You may speak your mind instead of bottling up what you feel or think."

"Well … don' wanna sound ungrateful …" The boy mumbled and he sighed.

"And I will not take it as ungratefulness." He reassured, turning the boy who still leaned against him, so that he could look at him. "It has nothing to do with ungratefulness, to say what you feel – not to mention that, during the past few weeks I have learned that there is not one bit of ungratefulness in you, child. You are respectful, grateful and obedient. So you may speak your mind, child."

The boy looked at him for a moment, before he averted his eyes and he allowed it.

"You know, I won't play Quidditch ever again." The boy started and he frowned again. "I know it, I'm not stupid, dad. I guess, I can be lucky that I'm alive still, and I really do thank you for everything you have done to keep me alive. It's not meant to complain, that's just how it is. I barely can walk up a flight of stairs without having to catch my breath, I have troubles balancing on the high beam and I barely can see enough to find the snitch if it is farther away than a broom's length. It hasn't been like this before and I know that it's not just because of our twenty-one days, but because of the potion Ron got to explode in my cauldron. It had hurt my lungs and my eyes and somehow my balancing system or what it would be called."

"Your sense of balance, yes. Well, I won't lie to you, Harry, and it indeed _might_ be that you won't be able to ever again playing on a team." He said, after taking a deep breath. "Your physical condition is as bad as could possibly be and even though you will get better with time given, you – most likely – won't be back to complete health ever. You have been so close to death, Harry, I still don't know how you could have survived. You have stopped breathing even at several points during that last night, your heart had stopped beating. You … I have prepared for you dying during that night, Harry, and I don't know how I have been able to fall asleep even, with you laying in my arms, barely alive, dying … I don't know it."

There was a pause for some time, both wizards, father and son sitting on the sofa, the boy resting against the man's chest, calmly, despite what the Potions Master had just told the child and it was a sign of how much this teen already had been through, if he wasn't scared about it, or at least upset, that he was used to talking of death and dying.

"But you always will be able playing for fun." Severus said after a few minutes of silence. "You will get better, and even though you won't play on a team, you always will be able to play for fun. We will deal with your eyes and your lungs when you are not so damn weak anymore, but we cannot do much now. Right now, it is important that I keep you the way you are – namely alive. However – I take it, you do blame Ronald for your eyes and lungs being so bad." He stated, he didn't have to ask.

"Partly." The boy said, thoughtfully. "I don't think I should, he didn't do it to harm me, but – you see, I didn't think that he really would attack me, that he would be violent towards me, but he has. And now … I don't know how to trust him anymore … I …"

"I think I know what you mean, Harry, but I also think that he indeed had done it intentionally." He softly said when the boy stopped again. "He has grabbed you and he had thrown you at the wall, ready to hit his fist into your face. He has thrown a beetle's eye into your cauldron – most likely knowing that it would cause some sort of an explosion or he wouldn't have done it in the first place. So Ronald _is _responsible for your injuries and for your health being so bad still. I do not wish to set you up against him, do not misunderstand my intentions, I just want you to see this realistic. You _do_ have the _right_ to feel anger, because if you don't allow this feeling, it will be bottled up until the bottle shatters and then the shards might cause harm more harm than your anger might cause right now. But if you allow your anger, then you will be able to deal with it, you will be able to control it, and then maybe you will be able to forgive your friend one day. It might take some time, but you will heal, alright?"

"'k, dad." The boy said, but he didn't really sound convinced and the Potions Master sighed.

"Come here, child." He said, pulling the boy closer and running his hand through the boy's hair, through the strands of shoulder long black hair, narrowing his eyes.

He knew that Harry's hair always had been – _stubborn_ – for the lack of a better word, but – and he didn't notice it for the first time – he knew that it wasn't meant to grow so quickly. He recognized his own hair, hair that was like his own had been when he had been that age, hair that grew long, never mind what he tried – and suddenly he understood that Harry had never been able to tame his unruly hair, not even now while it was longer.

"I suggest you wear your hair in a braid, Harry." He said, smiling like an idiot. "I fear it will be not only unruly now, but _long_ and unruly. You start showing signs of being my son."

A small but happy smile coming from the child was the answer and he placed his palm at the boy's cheek, wondering how this child could smile at something like this, proof of being the snarky Potions Master's son, while he ran his thumb over his son's cheekbone.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Dad?" The boy asked, like so often – carefully, as if he was scared of asking questions and he knew why the boy was scared, fearing punishment for asking questions, while at the same time – he was curious, he was eager for knowledge, wishing to understand his surroundings and what happened, wishing to understand the family bond and his position.

"Yes?" He asked back.

The meeting had gone well.

They hadn't been discussing anything today, only playing a game, but that had been alright. Those meetings, they were for discussions, they were for playing, they were for just sitting together, it didn't matter what they did during those times, as long as they did it together to keep their sense of togetherness, of being a group, of being a house, united.

"Just wanted to say – well, thanks, for showing me." The boy softly said, as softly as always.

He had watched Harry during the afternoon, and he had noticed that the child had been very quiet, tiredly partaking in the game without saying much, smiling happily. It had been clear – the boy had been very content with sitting amongst them, with watching them and with listening to them, he didn't have to partake in their conversations for being happy.

"My animagus form?" He asked, frowning.

The boy hadn't said anything about it since last night, had neither showed any sign of remembering nor of being disgusted, nor – anything, as if he hadn't ever shown him that he was a spider – a spider of all animals. Well, one couldn't simply become the animal they wanted – it was the animal choosing the wizard, similar as it was with a wand.

"Yes." Harry said. "You didn't have to, but you showed me."

"I feared you would be – disgusted." He said, remembering the fear he had felt, being so sure that the boy would run upon being between the legs of a spider. Most children would have, even most of the fourteen year old teenage boys would have. It wasn't that the animagus animals chose wizards that were – _disgusted_ by them. They of course chose wizards who felt comfortable with them, like the cat that was Minerva's animagus form, the idiot woman always had loved cats. Black had always loved dogs, the reason his animagus form was a mutt, a flea-bag, whatever – and he, well, he was a friend of spiders.

"Why?" The boy asked, looking at him with large eyes, as if he couldn't understand him.

"Most people are rather – disgusted, by spiders, scared and sometimes even terrified." He said. "Arachnophobia is one of the most specific phobias after all. And it isn't as if I transformed into a – cute little spiderling."

"I know." Harry said. "Dudley always played the strongman's act, but if seeing a spider, he ran screaming from the room and didn't come back. Aunt Petunia too was scared of spiders, what kept her out of my cupboard because they lived in there. Unfortunately uncle Vernon did not fear them." The child softly added and he lifted his son's head so the boy had to look at him.

"I already told you to never avert your eyes." He gently said. "It is not your fault, Harry – and … I am glad that you do not fear spiders. You just better don't tell people, seeing that I happen to be an – unregistered animagus, coincidentally only of course."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Shall we go to the great hall for dinner?" He asked a few minutes later, after the other children had come out of their rooms one by one, looking just as pillow-like as Harry had looked half an hour ago.

"It's bean stew." Draco said, wrinkling his face and he could see Harry grimacing too for a moment.

"It's Professor Sprout's birthday, and she's always ordering bean stew for dinner then." Hermione sighed while he led them out of their dungeons and up the stairs towards the entrance hall that would lead to the great hall.

"You have to poop because of them." Emma wrinkled her nose, causing some of the children to laugh and he sighed.

"It won't be beans for you anyway." He said, leading them into the great hall. "Most of you might feel better, but none of you would be able handling beans yet. I have ordered bread and mild cheese, tomatoes and cucumber for tonight's dinner."

"Great!" Theo smiled, followed by most others, only Emma seemed not being happy about it, whispering a soft "that's rotten milk".

"I have ordered herbal butter for you, Emma, don't worry." He said.

He wouldn't do so generally, allowing the children to have different food than the rest of the student body – but he knew that they were not to miss meals and bean stew they wouldn't be able to handle anyway. So why should Emma have to partake in a meal she didn't like while he had ordered something the others liked? It wouldn't be fair.

Not to mention that – at the present time he rather had them eating something different than eating nothing at all.

"That's roasted bread." Neville called out the moment they reached their table and the food already appeared.  
>"Great!" Theo smiled, like the others and he easily could notice the difference to the last year here at Hogwarts – or to the remainder of the students at the great hall. They were happy about such a thing like roasted bread, they were ready to eat things they didn't like to begin with and they didn't complain because of not enough food being on the table.<p>

Most of the others did complain about that, about not enough food on the table and in the end there was food left anyway, many of them took too much food on their plates and then didn't manage to eat all of it. He had long ago taught his students that they were not to load food on their plates more than they could eat while at the same time he had taught them that they were allowed to take a second. They of course complained too about food they didn't like, but they knew that they had to eat it anyway as long as their head of house deemed them well enough for doing so.

"Harry?" He asked when the boy only sat there, not taking anything, and he looked down at the child with a frown. He had gotten used to the boy's eating disorder, the child not daring to take much and in the beginning Harry had not dared taking anything at all, but it had gotten better – until now, it seemed.

"Would you like herbal butter for your bread like Emma, rather than cheese too?" He asked, trying to find out where the problem was – well, he only gained a headshake as an answer to his question.

"Do you like cheese at all?" He asked, getting the boy to shrugging his shoulder and he thought he knew the problem. "You've never had cheese before." He sighed. He didn't even have to ask the question, he could make it a statement. "Well, I suggest you simply try it, without listening to any prejudices. There are too many things in our world we would be able to enjoy if we did not rob ourselves of these experiences to begin with. Only mild cheese is served today so you easily will be able enjoying dinner."

Well, the boy looked very unsure, scared even, and he simply cut a slice from the cheese truckle and put it on the boy's plate.

Most of the others had already started eating, taking tomatoes and roasted bread, and taking either from the cheese slices or a small block of cheese.

Well, Harry too started, cutting a mall piece from the cheese and then putting it into his mouth – without smelling it first – and it was clear once again – Harry knew exactly what cheese _was_, and therefore how it would smell, seeing that he'd had to prepare the Dursleys' meals for years, he just had never been allowed eating it himself.

Chewing slowly – very slowly – the boy looked thoughtfully and he wondered what was going through his son's mind.

There was hesitation before the boy cut another small piece from the cheese, putting it into his mouth just as experimentally as the piece before, as if he were unsure if he liked it or not.

He had started on his dinner himself meanwhile, trying to not watch the boy – and his amazed face – openly, but he knew that he soon would have to do something about the Dursleys or he would explode with the anger he felt over and over again when watching his child, knowing that they were still not punished yet.

They would be, there was no mistake, he would make sure of that, but they weren't yet and this knowledge didn't help his anger at them to begin with.

Well, as it seemed, Harry _did_ like the cheese, because even though he still ate carefully, only small pieces he put into his mouth – from the way he was chewing it, he was unsure still, but seemed to like it. It was not a disgusted chewing but an enjoying one.

"You know, that reminds me at home." Gregory smiled at him and he lowered his head to one side, questioningly.

"We're often having cheese for dinner at home, with roasted bread and with tomato salad and loads of onions." Vincent explained, smiling too.

"Onions surely is nothing your stomach would enjoy right now, at least not the kind of onions in a tomato salad." He smirked at the boy. "I am however sure that until your Christmas holidays you will be able to enjoy it. As will you, Draco."

"You know, that really will be fun." Gregory smiled happily. "Christmas at the Crabbe and Goyle house. You'll have a Christmas tree even."

"Yes, mum told me." Draco said, thoughtfully. "Dad never allowed a Christmas tree, he said it was a muggle thing and he wouldn't allow it in his house as long as he lived. Strange, he's alive still, but mum and me will have one at your house now."

"I'm glad that you're coming." Vincent simply said. "Dad's happy with your mum in the house too."

"You know, that's really strange, my mum in a house with your dads." Draco said, nearly laughing.

"Wait – your fathers are – gay?" Dean asked, looking from Gregory to Vincent and back. "You two are living together?"

"Not really." Gregory answered and he could hear a hint of carefulness in the boy's voice. "Our father's are not gay, they're just living together and sharing a house, and since we're so close we've become one family, but there's nothing between them. BUt yes, Vince and I are growing up like brothers, after our mothers have been killed."

"'m sorry." Came Harry's voice, sounding sad. "But I think it's pretty cool that your fathers have been able to live together then. They're giving you a family that way even though without a mother and you're really like brothers that way."

"Hmm." Vincent made. "But you know, living in a family with two fathers – there are some, especially Gryffindors, who judge us on that."

"We're no Gryffindors anymore, remember?" Dean shrugged his shoulders and the Potions Master relaxed. "We're all Huntingales now. And honestly, now I know why you two are always together, you always reminded me at the Weasley twins even though you don't look alike."

"I think that's pretty cool." Theodore said, softly. "I'd like to have a brother too, one that was at school with me."

"Actually, you will have one." Severus said, casting a quick glance at Harry, asking for permission. "Harry and I have decided that you will be better off at Prince Manor instead of your home, Theodore, and I already have asked for custody over you."

"You have … but surely my father would never …"

"Your father has no say in this, Theodore, seeing that he has been made responsible for the attack at Hogwarts, using dark magic and therefore landed himself in Azkaban." He calmly said, leaning back in his chair.

"I know." Theodore softly said, averting his eyes. "But he still has friends and … dunno, he'd never allow that."

"If you end up in Azkaban because you are accused of using dark magic – even the Death Eaters remain far away from you." He said with a sigh. "They abandon you because they don't want the ministry to investigate in _their_ cases too deeply. They are easily abandoning you to safe their own skin, Theodore, and so your father has absolutely no influence on anything."

A moment later he had a small hand beneath the table slipping into his, squeezing tightly and he squeezed the small hand in return for a moment, knowing that the boy didn't want to cause an emotional scene openly in the great hall but needed reassurance and comfort anyway right now.

No one said anything more, because there wasn't anything more to say at all and so they finished their dinner in relative silence.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

It was when they left the great hall, that he – again – learned about how quickly a house could abandon its members too – or former members – just like the Death Eaters abandoned their fellow men.

He had heard some of the Gryffindors complaining about them having to eat bean stew while the Huntingales were allowed other food – despite the fact that two thirds of the Gryffindors were missing anyway and he was sure that they were down in the kitchens to get something different to eat, like pumpkin cake, pudding and early Halloween cookies.

It was however as if the children's jealousy and anger was stoked by the minute and he shook his head about the loyally of them. Half of Huntingale was former Gryffindor after all, just like the other half was former Slytherin – but that didn't mean that they had become enemies from just one day to the other just because they have changed houses. Didn't friendship mean _any_thing anymore?

Apparently not, he huffed, inwardly, apparently the children were forgotten as quickly by their former housemates the moment they changed houses as were Death Eaters by their former colleagues the moment they got imprisoned because of having used dark magic.

He – partly – could understand the second, them fearing that the ministry could investigate in their households, and then could imprison them too, them fearing for their families. He however couldn't understand the Gryffindors. What did they fear if they were befriend with members of another house? seeing that it wasn't even Slytherin?

"What's that, Potty, is that a pink and a grey line running through your shoes?" McLaggen sneered down at the boy and _he_ growled down at _that_ boy. McLaggen however seemed unimpressed, smirking up at him with a "how girlish" on his lips – while at the same time he could see the envy in the boy's eyes and he smirked himself.

"How fortunate then, that you'll never have to wear them, seeing that you have a different opinion on fashion like most others." He sneered himself, anger rushing through his veins and he was about to push Harry through the entrance door of the great hall, into the entrance hall from where they had access to their dungeons.

"You know, it's Snape now, not Potter, McLaggen, and they actually are from the boy's section at Gladrag's, they're Gladrag's original." Harry said before he could get the child outside. "I can understand however your mistake, because surely Gladrag wouldn't want customers who ridicule others upon their clothing."

He could see McLaggen seething with anger, he could feel Harry tensing under his hand he had resting on the boy's shoulder and beside him Theodore and Draco took a step towards the fifth year student.

"You little traitor …" McLaggen started, actually taking a threatening step forwards.

"It is enough." He softly said, silkily, knowing that he caused a shiver running down the students' backs, and he inwardly smirked. "McLaggen, I will see you in half an hour for detention – for starting an argument in the great hall. Harry, Draco and Theodore, you better run along, I will meet you in the parlour shortly."

"What's that been about?" He heard Towler, a Gryffindor sixth year whispering. "Snape protecting Potter? That's new."

"Told you that Potter's a spy." Stimpson answered. "That means he's in the right house, Snape's a spy too after all, was in the newspaper."

"Like father like son …" Was the last he heard but chose to ignore for now, he would however have an eye on some Lions though, just in case to keep his own students safe if necessary.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Gladrag!" He heard McLaggen murmuring, angrily, and he smirked. "Who'd like shoes from Gladrag!"

He had met Harry, Draco and Theodore in their parlour, thanking them for not starting a fight even though they were provoked, telling Harry that it was ok to give a comment back but that he was glad they had walked away the moment he had them ordered to and to tell them that he would be away for the next one and a half hours.

"Designer clothes are too much regarded anyway!" The boy murmured while scrubbing cauldrons, nearly sticking with his head in them, and he had given the boy some of his most ugly cauldrons, knowing that the always so well dressed and arrogant boy would mind these cauldrons. McLaggen was one of these children that got the most expensive clothes and then rubbed it beneath the other children's noses, showing off like a peacock, often causing trouble that way.

"Gladrag's!" The boy went on murmuring. "Gladrag is no match for a real good designer! I'd die before I had to wear Gladrag's!"

Well, considering the other clothes the boy wore, all being designed by Gillian Gladrag, he indeed rather sounded jealous instead of really disgusted by the thought. Not to mention that – after Harry had seen the boots, had taken them from the shelf to have a closer look, the boy's green eyes bright, he had placed them back at the shelf, had said that he surely couldn't wear girls' shoes. Gladrag had come to tell the boy that the small and thin pink lines were neutralized by the grey lines, both colours matching with the pitch black shoes to begin with, and that they indeed were boys' shoes. He then had brought over similar shoes, designed for girls and the pink in them had been much more and brighter lines and there were no grey lines but other pink lines of which Gladrag had told them they were not pink but violet and purple.

Fashion, really – he didn't know why children thought it were so important.

He had packed some of the essays he still had to grade and then he had gone to his classroom.

He had overtaken the sixth and the seventh year students meanwhile – much to Hereweald's dismay as the man thought he wouldn't manage, feared he would suffer a breakdown because of five classes he taught each week – alright, it were ten classes each week, seeing that after second year the students had potions twice a week – but even though, that made two classes a day instead of three to four classes a day, like it had been in the past. And it wasn't that he had a lot of students asking for his attention either, seeing that Hereweald had overtaken Slytherin and seeing that the Slytherin children got along with the Norwegian very good. So he had now not even half of the students he normally had as the head of house for Slytherin.

So he didn't see any reason as to why he should suffer from a breakdown, for Merlin's sake!

Well, McLaggen cursing under his breath told him about the boy having gotten some of the goo from the cauldron at his clothes, most likely his white shirt – that was a Gladrag shirt, just by the way.

It was McLaggen's next comment, that had Severus concentrating more on the comments than on his essays.

"That bloody idiot better be very careful!" The fifth year Gryffindor hissed to himself. "Barely a Snape and already he's a git … let's see if he's as tough as his daddy is … maybe let's see if he's as good at potions as his daddy is … that little traitor snake will pay …"

Yes, he would have a very close eye on McLaggen – _and_ on his son, for that matter. It was a clear threat McLaggen had murmured to himself and he knew that the boy was capable of going through with his threat.

Waving his hand at the boy and muttering a spell he set an alarm on the fifth year student, an alarm that would alert him if he either came closer than a few yards at his son or if he came close to any of his son's belongings – or the other Huntingales.

break ... ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ... line

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued<strong>

**Next time in A few days more**

_________________well, it's Friday next chapter … and what subjects do they have on Fridays ? :D …_________________

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too, thank you …

**House cup: **

At the present time it looks like this:

708 - Gryffindor - Head of House: Catlady

701 - Slytherin - Head of House: evil minded

576 - Ravenclaw - Head of House: Arithmancy Master

340 - Hufflepuff - Head of House: still a free post


	20. fighting back your tears

**Title:**

A few days more

Sequel to twenty-one days

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Fourth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

"A few days more" is the sequel to "Twenty-one days" – read and review this first or you wouldn't understand all that happens in this story.

The fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindors have survived their imprisonment in the potions classroom situated in the dungeons. How will they go on in all-day life after their survival? How will they manage to reintegrate into the castle's routine and their classes? How will they be able to go back to life at all? Watch how those who survived fight for their lives and for their peace, for their place in the community at Hogwarts.

**Disclaimer: **

Did you see Severus alive at the end of _'The deathly hallows'_? no?

Do you think I would have had him died if I had written those books? no?

Then you know that _'Harry Potter'_ does not belong to me … nor does Severus … regrettably … he belongs to J. K. Rowling …

But Hereweald Hrothgar does …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

Also please note that this chapter will be the last one on this story for several weeks as during November I will be writing for NaNo, National Novel Writing Month – but please don't skin me for the wait as I just won't have the time for writing on both, ff and NaNo … not to mention that, just like last year, I of course will present you with the story written for NaNo, so you see, there is a benefit for you too …

I know that there was something else I wanted to say, but by my life, I forgot what it was …

**Warning:**

Story contains references to child abuse.

**Note**: that in this chapter clear child abuse _does_ happen, please do _not_ read it if you can't handle it …

Child-abuse is a really serious thing, it is an evil thing and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help without being helped, and closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist, is no solution …

I only say - remind yourself of your feelings, of your sympathy, and of your understanding … and handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once being abused … with understanding and with help …

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me - I am …

* * *

><p>break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line<p>

**Previously in A few days more**

_Well, McLaggen cursing under his breath told him about the boy having gotten some of the goo from the cauldron at his clothes, most likely his white shirt – that was a Gladrag shirt, just by the way._

_It was McLaggen's next comment, that had Severus concentrating more on the comments than on his essays._

_"That bloody idiot better be very careful!" The fifth year Gryffindor hissed to himself. "Barely a Snape and already he's a git … let's see if he's as tough as his daddy is … maybe let's see if he's as good at potions as his daddy is … that little traitor snake will pay …"_

_Yes, he would have a very close eye on McLaggen – and on his son, for that matter. It was a clear threat McLaggen had murmured to himself and he knew that the boy was capable of going through with his threat. _

_Waving his hand at the boy and muttering a spell he set an alarm on the fifth year student, an alarm that would alert him if he either came closer than a few yards at his son or if he came close to any of his son's belongings. _

**A few days more**

**Chapter twenty **

**Day twenty – eleventh of October – Friday**

**Fighting back your tears**

It was Friday, and he wasn't in the best mood – knowing that the children had DADA with Moody who apparently had no brain in his head and had – at least during the lesson last week – had the children doing magic, and then history with Creighton who had last time he'd had Harry in his class, kept the boy standing in a corner with his hands behind his head – for nearly the entire lesson. The boy's stiff back and shoulders had been troubling him for days after that and Harry had been dizzy for nearly the entire weekend.

Not to mention that another article about Harry and the other children had been published, this time concerning the _'dangerous'_ animal they were housing, and seeing that Skeeter had mentioned his son's puzzle on the floor in their private quarters – and the mental illness if the child destroyed a picture into thousands of pieces as well as his, Snape's, cruelly as he had forced said poor and ill child to undo the damage by his hands and without magic – well, he didn't know _how_ the woman had gotten this information about Harry's puzzle on the floor into her hands, but somehow she had and he knew that none of them had sold any information to her.

He only could guess of course, but he guessed bugs the woman used and he already had cast one or another of his spying spells at the corners of the rooms – but neither bugs nor spells or other spying equipment had shown themselves.

Diagon too had been strange the day before, running through their quarters and if the term _'to go up the wall'_ ever had applied to an animal, then it would have fit theirs yesterday evening. He even had cast a diagnostic, fearing that Diagon might be hurt somehow, and in pain, but the desert cat had been perfectly fine – physically, but mentally the predator had acted as if on the hunt with his prey out of reach – he had no better words to describe Diagon's behaviour who had been furious even once in a while, wary at other times.

And this morning the mutt had demanded to see Harry again, accompanied by the wolf.

_He_ had been furious then! After what had happened last time these two had gotten hold of his son, he had been absolutely furious upon leaving Albus' office.

At least it was weekend after today, and _that_ was the only glimmer of hope he right now had.

Well, he had demanded to pick the children up after DADA, just to make sure that they were alright after Moody's class and so that he could decide whom to release into Creighton's class or whom he would keep at home – and he would see them at lunch after history to make sure that they were alright. He hoped that they would be by then.

"Dad?" Harry asked, softly and he frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing that concerns you, boy." He growled back, not in the mood for any conversation at all and surely not up to discuss his emotional condition. "Eat your breakfast."

He didn't notice the startled look in his son's green eyes which looked at him for a moment nor did he notice the other children frowning at him or the table getting strangely silent.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

He watched them coming inside his classroom.

_His_ classroom!

Who would have thought that he would have his _very own_ classroom here at Hogwarts one day, his own classroom to torture children in. Of course he knew that he had to be careful, that he had to start slowly, but well, that did make it just the sweeter, didn't it?

And especially Potter.

How he hated that boy! How very much he hated that boy!

If only he could get his hands on him and get him away from Hogwarts, he would skin the brat alive and then he would cut small pieces off his body, one chunk of flesh after another one, slowly, very slowly – and every part of skin and flesh he would send to Snape, the traitor, whom he hated just as much.

He wasn't sure actually whom he hated more, Snape or Potter.

But he knew that he wouldn't stand a chance to get to Snape in person – he however could get to his son, and through his son, he could get to Snape one way or another.

Not to mention the trouble he'd had with Pomfrey this morning, this bloody and fucking woman telling him how to do his lessons, telling him – _him_, the _teacher_ – that he wasn't to use magic in his class? A defence against the dark art class and he wasn't to use magic! That was laughable!

But well, he didn't need magic, he had other means.

He'd had a very nice conversation with Creighton, the idiot, just the other day, and the man was strangely creative – and hated Potter just as much as did he, as it seemed – whatever reason for Creighton did hate that brat – but well, who cared? He now knew how he would get to Potter even without magic and even without harming one hair on his body – for now.

Smirking he noticed their silence this morning and their careful movements, especially Potter's, the boy actually looking down at the floor the entire time, without noticing anything around him.

Waving his wand he cast a loud bang through the classroom the moment they all were inside and the door closed, and just like he thought – they were startled out of their wits.

"This is the defence class, ladies and gentlemen." He growled. "Not a kindergarten class nor a drawing class. You can sleep at night but during my lesson you will be alert. Constant vigilance, ladies and gentlemen! Well, seeing that this is defence, we will see how tough you are. Snape, get your sorry behind over here and take this piece of chalk. Now put it at the board and hold it there until I say otherwise. If there is more than this dot of chalk at the board then, you'll stand in the corner for the remainder of the lesson."

He watched the boy obeying, like a good little dog, getting up and coming to the front, taking the chalk and putting it at the board. What a pity, this boy, no bone in his body, but well, he would find reasons to punish even an obedient student, he would get his satisfaction out of this job – and in the meantime he had the others.

"Nott!" He called over the next brat and Nott Junior got off his chair, stood there behind his desk. "Your daddy has gained himself a lifelong stay in Azkaban – nice feeling, isn't it?" Watching the boy over he noticed the similarities between the teen and his father.

Thaddeus Nott and Walden McNair, these two had always been in the inner circle, amongst others of course, like Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape, just for example, and Bellatrix Lestrange, Avery, Crabbe and Goyle, as stupid as they were. And they always had looked down on him, they always had sneered down on him, had treated him like a dirty and stinking piece of shit even though he had been the only and most loyal follower of the Dark Lord, even though they all had abandoned their Master and even though only _he_ had remained faithfully to his Master!

But now was _his_ time to pay back!

Well, McNair, Avery and Lestrange, he couldn't get to _them_ easily, they had no children here and neither did some others – but Crabbe and Goyle had, as well as Malfoy and Nott – and now _Snape_. He had been so cheerful when he had head about Snape having adopted Potter!

None of the others he hated as much as Snape, because the others only had abandoned his Master upon the Dark Lord's downfall caused by Potter, but Snape – Snape had always betrayed his Master, had spied on him, had … rage soaring through his body, fury so blinding it physically hurt his eyes and he waved his wand for another bang, knowing how much he would startle Potter, knowing that the boy wouldn't be able to hold the chalk steady and he smirked even before he turned to see the long line of white chalk on the black board.

"Unable to control yourself, Snape?" He smirked, nearly chuckled. "Well, well, well, and here I thought you were tougher. The Dark Lord will have easy prey with you, boy. Into the corner now, and your hands behind your head, that was the deal." He chuckled, watching the boy walking over to the corner and placing himself with his nose against the wall. "That's right, boy, and you better do not dare getting your arms down or you will be punished." He added with another wave of his wand, at the brat this time, Pomfrey being damned.

And well, Nott and McNair had come just behind Snape – followed closely by Malfoy.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"I'm sorry, Professor Moody, but I'm sure that Professor Snape mentioned in the staff room – the children are not to be put in a corner." Ron said, as politely as possible, getting off his chair. He knew that Alastor Moody was a friend of his parents and he knew that the ex-auror was very demanding concerning politeness – at least when it came to children – that he was one of the old school. But at the same time he knew that Harry shouldn't stand there, not for nearly ninety minutes. Last week when Creighton had put Harry into the corner, then he had been so tired and weak and sore for days and he knew that Snape had been really, really worried.

Moody turned towards him, sharply, watching him with his good eye as well as with his bad eye before this one then turned in his head to look at Harry.

"Weasley, isn't it?" Moody asked, even though he was sure that Moody knew exactly that he was a Weasley.

"Yes, sir." He answered. He wanted something of the teacher, namely that he let Harry go, and so he had to show his respect – if he had learned nothing with Snape as his new head of house, then it at least was that. Most professors were ready to give in on one thing or another if they got the students' respect.

"You're the prefect of this class, aren't you?" Moody then asked and he straightened.

"Yes, sir." He said, proudly. As it seemed, they were getting somewhere.

"Well, Weasley, you either can accompany your friend over there in this corner, or you accept that I have made a decision – and I do not go back on my decisions. I do not care about what Snape wants, Weasley, Snape is a Death Eater and a Death Eater has no right to demand anything at all. I do handle my students the way I see fit and if Snape coddles you to make you weak so that the Dark Lord will have easy prey with you, then _I_ will not coddle you, because the Dark Lord won't coddle you either. Get used to it, boy. And now, Nott, take Snape's place at the board." Moody then hissed and he knew, the ex-auror would take one by one of them, just because he could, just because they were in Snape's house. "Let's see if your Death Eater father has taught you more strength than Snape has his son."

He had been against Slytherin for a long time, he had judged them on their parents for a long time, forgetting that Death Eaters were found in other houses too, like Gryffindor, just for example – but he had learned over the past few weeks that the children in Slytherin were children just like them, that they were not to be held account for the mistakes their _parents_ had done. Seeing Moody now acting so vile – he didn't really understand the man's motivation.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

The moment Moody had put Theo at Harry's place in front of the board, with the remark about Death Eater parents teaching their children strength – he had known that he would end up there too – and he had been right, of course.

Moody had let loose other bangs and of course Theo had been startled, Theo always was startled, as was Harry, and most of them knew why. It was unfair to take the students that were beaten at home, that were scared in the first place, and to startle them like that. Well, Theo too had ended up in a corner, in a different corner than Harry and even while Moody had placed _him_ at the front and before the blackboard then, he had wondered about where Moody would place the others.

He had lasted through some of the bangs, willing himself to not being startled, to keep at least the others from the same fate, even if his arm that had held the chalk to the blackboard had gotten more and more tired and had started hurting with time but he had lasted through a few of Moody's bangs – until he had started to cast – well, kind of a bolt at him, for the lack of a better word. He knew that surely it hadn't been a _real_ bolt, that was impossible, but he knew that he had felt the heat, that he had felt the pain from the heat when the bolt had passed him and he still thought he could smell singed hair.

Well, he hadn't been able to keep the chalk still _then_ and he had slipped the chalk across the board, leaving behind a white line on the black board. Vincent had been the one taking over then and now he was standing in a corner just like Harry and Theo, hating Moody more and more.

More than once his arms had lowered themselves because they had gotten heavier and heavier – and each time that had happened, the pain in his shoulder blades had nearly brought him to his knees. He didn't know what exact spell it had been Moody had used on them, but whenever he lowered his arms then this pain was there, robbing him off his breath, and he wasn't so sure about Moody anymore.

He seemed as if hating the Death Eaters in one moment – but he was using Death Eater methods for punishment the other moment, he didn't understand it. He knew that his father had done the same, and more than once, having him in a corner and placing a spell on him so that he couldn't lower his arms without blinding pain that was robbing his breath, that nearly made him screaming, that nearly had his knees giving way. And he knew that a lot of the other Death Eaters did the same. He knew that the Death Eaters did the same with some of their victims even, and they didn't care about them being children or adults, they had them standing there for hours and hours and hours, until they dropped with weakness and then they stood there and watched them writhing and screaming on the floor with the pain their shoulder blades caused because they didn't have their hands behind their heads anymore, because they were unable to place their hands behind their heads anymore because of the pain. His father had told him about it, smiling, as if he told a children's story.

So, what was Moody doing? Or rather – _why_ was he doing what he was doing?

Did he do this because _they_ were Death Eater children? To show them what he thought of their fathers? To show them what it meant to be the child of a Death Eater? But if so, why then with Harry, too? It was clear after all, the Daily Prophet had printed it, after the commemoration – Severus had adopted Harry, yes, but they also had printed that Severus was no Death Eater, and never had been, that he was a spy for Professor Dumbledore and the light. So, why did Moody do this with Harry too? He didn't understand it.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Merlin, what an idiot had he been!

What an absolute and what a bloody _idiot_ had he been – now that he had calmed down a bit, now that he'd had time to think, now he knew that he had handled Harry the way he had during the past three years, like a git, not like he ought to.

How could he have told the boy to shut up, just upon the question about how he felt – and noting else had it been. Of course he had used other words, he had told Harry that it was none of his concern – what was correct – but one, it was the same anyway, just in other words – and second, he could have used a different tone with the boy.

Not to mention that he could have reassured Harry that he was not angry with him, just in a bad mood, and if he now thought about it, then he couldn't help wondering how miserable the teen surely had to feel – and the others.

They were bound together very closely by now, and sometimes they felt like one union – if one of them was sad, then they all were sad and if one of them was happy, then they all were happy. It was strange, but they belonged together, they felt together, they thought together and they breathed together. They were like one.

He knew that of course they would grow apart with time, to some point at least where they would be able to go different ways and to start their own families – but until then, they were like one.

He didn't worry about that either, because he knew that this was what had to be, they had been through hell together and of course that had forged them into one unit, that had been what had kept them alive after all and so no, he didn't worry about that – it was just that – he worried about how he had handled Harry's question this morning – he had hurt the boy, and so he had hurt the entire group, he knew, and now, during DADA, a subject that wasn't their most favourite subject to begin with, their misery surely had to grow – and only Merlin knew to what heights it would grow and how Moody would react to that

Sighing he leaned back in his chair, throwing the quill at the tabletop and folding his arms in front of his chest, watching the seventh year students brewing the wolfsbane potion.

There weren't much. There was Diggory from Hufflepuff, Clearwater and Davis from Ravenclaw, Percival Weasley from Gryffindor and Bole and Derrick from Slytherin, a small group of NEWT students that were able to work on their own, a small group he didn't even have to split in two groups with two houses each like it was standard at Hogwarts.

For a moment he had considered just that, when he had overtaken his NEWT classes from Hereweald, remembering the small groups he had taught during these twenty-one days down in the dungeons classroom and how peaceful these lessons had been, but then he had dismissed the thought. If he did so, then he would have to give ten classes per week instead of six only – he was not ready for that or Hereweald would have taken back his NEWT classes too. It was enough that the imbecile taught his OWL classes already and had overtaken his house.

But well, if he hadn't, then he wouldn't have as much time for his new house now, not to mention that – in one point Hereweald _was_ correct, even if he never ever would admit it to anyone – he had to regard his own health too, he was only human after all and he too had been through these twenty-one days, or he would suffer a breakdown what surely was not in any interest of the children entrusted to him.

Taking a deep breath he forced his thoughts back to the class and getting off the chair behind his desk he started walking through the classroom, knowing that the students had reached a step in their brewing that could be dangerous and surely he didn't want another disaster like the one nearly six weeks ago.

"Lycanthropy is no illness you can heal." He lectured, while looking into cauldrons and sniffing at the brewage from one or another student. "You only will be able to keep a werewolf – if said werewolf is ready for cooperation – sane and therefore in control of his actions during the transformation. It is, like with a cold. You cannot actually cure a cold, but you can stop the symptoms with a simple potion. You can find herbs in a cold potion to curb coughing, like anise, lavender and sage, herbs to curb sneezing, like hayflowers, elder and thyme if it is due to allergy or you can find pine leaves, ivy root and eucalyptus there to relieve the upper respiratory system, the bark of an ash tree, or the roots of a willow for fever and pain, as well as for strengthening the immune system."

He would pick them up after DADA and then he would talk to Harry, he would make sure that they were alright before history or he would cancel their lesson with Creighton – so there was nothing to worry about.

"Likewise the wolfsbane potion must have components to deaden the psychological symptoms of lycanthropy while at the same time it needs components to calm and to strengthen the person concerned, with – of course – wolfsbane as a catalyst."

Well, there _would have been_ nothing to worry about, if Weasley hadn't decided to add the witch hazel before the bloodroot, despite his explicit warning earlier, _Percival_ Weasley, mind you, a NEWT student, not Ronald Weasley who was halfway through his potions education only.

Weasley however _did_ add the witch hazel before the bloodroot that would have calmed the concoction and prevented the cauldron from exploding – as he had explained at the beginning of the class – and so Weasley's cauldron – in the end – _did_ explode.

Well, while the potion was difficult to brew, only a few Potions Masters worldwide being able to actually make it, it was not a dangerous one if it exploded, even though it was unpleasant on the skin at some steps and simply messy on others. Of course Weasley would have exploded his cauldron at a step that would not only be messy upon explosion but unpleasant on the skin too, and of course the idiot boy was standing close enough to get covered with the potion nearly from head to toe.

It wasn't that the wolfsbane potion was required for a standard NEWT potions class – actually, rarely any school taught that particular potion in their NEWTs, but not only was he a potions teacher at _Hogwarts_, one of the best wizarding academic institutes worldwide, but also was he a Potions _Master_ – and again, one of the most esteemed Potions Masters worldwide, one of the few being able to actually brew the wolfsbane potion so that it worked, and so he expected the same standard from his NEWT students of course, seeing that he only allowed the best in his NEWT classes to begin with.

"Get off these clothes, you idiot boy!" He growled, angrily, knowing that he wouldn't manage being at the DADA classroom in time to get his children from Moody's hands, not if he had to make sure that Weasley was alright and seeing that he was their teacher, the responsibility for the boy's health lay with him of course.

And there it was again – _his_ children!

Well, there was no fuss from Weasley's side, the boy immediately getting rid of his cloak and then of his shirt and the undershirt he was wearing, but he hadn't expected any fuss either, seeing that the potion at this step was not just messy but actually uncomfortable on skin contact and the boy already started scratching his arms.

"Get your feet moving to the bathroom to take a shower, Weasley, now!" He ordered while waving his wand and discarding the boy's clothes that started to smoke on the floor, holes appearing where they had come in contact with the potion, getting larger and larger, the fabric being eaten away by the substance.

Well, exactly _that_ was the reason as to why any potions laboratory was bound to have a bathroom and a shower attached to it, because while the potions brewed in lower grades were relatively harmless, a NEWT potion _could_ be right-out dangerous in case of skin contact.

Of course the same as with the clothes would not happen with skin _this time_, the substance only destroying cloth or paper for example but not skin or hair – on skin, if the contact was prolonged, it only would come to a nasty rash that could get infected if uncared for. And on hair nothing else would happen than the hair losing its colour and becoming white.

But he had to make sure that Weasley was cared for, that he took a shower and then got a cream – and actually used it – and _that_ kept him from picking the children up from DADA in time.

Well, he would have to deal with it, he would have to wait for lunch until he saw them, until he could talk with Harry about his unthought comment this morning, and until then he only could hope that they were alright despite the lesson with Moody – and then Creighton.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

He was dead, he knew that he was dead and he had ended up in hell, like aunt Petunia always had told him he would, he had ended up in hell and here he would rot for the rest of his existence, however long this existence would be, but he feared that it would be forever, because there was nothing else after death, was there?

**Flashback**

_"I cannot answer you this question." Severus said. "No one does know what lies behind death, and I personally think that it is a good thing that we do not know. We are able to await death because we do not know what lays behind. If we knew, then maybe we would be startled at the thought, or we would be frightened, or we would be so excited that we would kill our selves before our time to make the experience sooner than necessary."_

**End flashback**

Merlin, he knew now what laid behind death, namely hell, blinding, painful hell, a hell that was so similar to the one of the Dursleys, he nearly was sure that he was back there – he would have been sure if there weren't the others – and if they weren't on their way to the history classroom, surely not a place he wished to be – neither in real life nor in hell.

Draco's careful movements beside him, and Theo's pale and strained face told him enough about them having ended up in the same hell like he had, together with Vincent and Gregory. The others, Moody hadn't had enough time to punish the others too – whatever for to begin with, he didn't know – because Draco already had kept the chalk steady for a long time and Vincent and Gregory had been really good in this. But well, neither Vince nor Greg was jumpy in the first place and he wasn't sure if Gregory hadn't even fallen asleep while holding the chalk to the board – kind of at least. So the lesson had been over before Blaise had been put into a corner.

Corners – he didn't know why he had worried about not enough corners being in the DADA classroom, because he should have thought about – living in the magic world maybe? Of course there would be enough corners, even in a circular classroom there would have been enough corners if Moody so needed.

"Nice of you to finally grace me with your presence." Creighton's voice got him out of his thoughts and he would have straightened if only he were able to move his shoulders or his arms, his back or whatever. He didn't even know what really hurt or what only hurt because his shoulders sent rays of pain to his back and his neck and his arms. Merlin, even his lungs seemed to hurt! "Lesson has started already five minutes ago! You better hurry up or you will serve detention for the rest of the day – standing in a corner!"

Well, if _that_ didn't have them hurrying to their tables, then nothing would have made them and already two minutes later they were sitting and the classroom was silent.

Bloody hell, was this a new fashion?

Never before had the teachers put the students into a corner and now they had two of them. Creighton had started with it and Moody apparently had taken over. What he didn't understand was – Moody was a member of the light, wasn't he? Moody was crazy – that at least was what Ron, Fred and George said – but he was one of the good guys, so why didn't he act the good guy? Why did he torture them all? Even Severus had been kind and kitten-like back then, in his first three years here at Hogwarts, compared to Moody. Severus would have never really harmed them and even while he had been with the man in detention to scrub cauldrons more than he'd been in detention with any other teacher, Severus had never kept him until he couldn't move with muscle soreness. It hadn't been fun, but it hadn't been painful either.

So, why did Moody tread them like this? Not even Creighton had cast that spell on him last week, whatever spell it was Moody had used, he didn't know, but Draco had told him that it was Death Eater punishment and that Moody had cast a spell on them so that they couldn't lower their arms without experiencing this excruciating pain that had made his eyes water with tears, that nearly had him screaming – even if Moody had cancelled the spell upon them leaving the history classroom.

"You think you are above, having to pay attention, Potter, don't you?" Again, it was Creighton's voice that got him out of his thoughts and he forced himself to come back to the here and now. Merlin, how could he concentrate while still the muscles in his shoulders hurt so much? He was barely able to move, still!

"Sorry, sir." He forced himself to say and he sighed at how damn tired his voice sounded.

"A half-hearted sorry won't help you with You-Know-Who, Potter." Creighton hissed at him. "I have expected more from the saviour of the wizarding world, from the chosen one. Try again."

"I am sorry, sir?" Harry asked, not really knowing what his manners would have to do with Voldemort. He understood that a teacher expected manners, and that his sorry might not have been the most respectful one, but if he stood in front of Voldemort, then not even the best manners possible would help him.

"Is _that_ really the best you can do, boy?" Creighton sneered at him and he frowned.

"I sincerely apologize for not paying attention in your class, Professor Creighton." He forced himself to say, not really sure what exactly Creighton expected.

"How pathetic! How pitiable, _Potter_." Creighton sneered and he couldn't help the anger he felt rising in his chest.

"It's Snape!" He growled back. "_Sir!_"

"Ah, I see the chosen one is ready for a challenge." Creighton smiled, but he knew that this was not a kind smile, it was an evil smile, a smirk even more evil than the one Severus had shown once in a while. "Well then, Mr. _Snape_ – detention after this class, we will see who of us will be the winner of your challenge."

Alright – that much for staying out of harms ways and he knew that this time Severus wouldn't be there to help him, because this time he had caused the trouble himself. And yet, he refused to look away, withstood Creighton's cold gaze until the man went to the front of the classroom and continued with his lesson – about magic in the medieval times – wondering why Creighton didn't have him standing in the corner this time. It wasn't that he _wished_ to stand there, surely not, anything than that, he had been standing in a corner long enough today and still his shoulder blades burned like hell – he just feared that what Creighton might have in mind instead of that – because it had to be something evil if the man abandoned the option of having him punished right now.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Well, _Potter!_" Creighton spat, so hatefully, he had to clench his teeth for a moment to keep himself from cringing.

He had been wrong, badly wrong. Because he had thought that Creighton acted like Severus had in the past, he had thought that all the hissing and growling Creighton had done – it all fit Severus' behaviour during the past three years and Merlin, the man had overtaken the Potions Master's place in hating him – but he had been wrong, very wrong.

Never before had Severus spat his name with so much hate and ferocity in his voice, and never before had Severus been standing in front of him, trembling with rage and fury – he was doomed.

"Well, Potter." The man repeated after taking a deep breath. "The wall, but this time, you place your hands against the wall, boy!"

Slowly and feeling numb he obeyed, walking over to the wall like in a dream. Well, he knew what would follow.

Because he knew, if you had to stand with your face to a wall and if you then had to brace your hands against that wall – then there only was one reason to it – a beating with either a whip or a cane. He just wondered why Creighton didn't have him undressing first. Uncle Vernon would have. Uncle Vernon never would have allowed any clothes between the cane and his skin and …

A moment later his cloak, his shirt and his undershirt were gone and he knew the reason. How stupid! How very stupid of him! Of course Creighton wouldn't allow any clothes between the cane and his skin either! Of course Creighton used magic to undress him, he should have known that, they were living in the wizarding world after all. He seemed to forget that too often lately, today – first with Moody, and now with Creighton.

"Very well – _Potter!_" Creighton hissed again. "Let's see how you can handle my answer to your challenge – but seeing your back this isn't new to you, is it, Potter?"

Well, if Creighton thought that he would give an answer to that, then he was wrong. He rather would rot in hell and bear the worst beating for the remainder of his life than really giving an answer to Creighton's question.

Alright, he knew that in a few minutes he definitely would think differently – but that was what he thought _now_, and so he didn't answer. But there wasn't any need to give an answer anyway, because he knew that Creighton would beat him anyway, never mind what, never mind if he gave him an answer or not.

"_Is it, Potter?_" The man hissed, and a moment later he could hear the cane soughing through the air – followed by the blinding pain of the cane hitting his back and for a moment he wasn't able to breathe, wasn't able to even think while his knees gave way and he landed on the floor, gasping for air and fighting with his tears.

Merlin, he didn't know what kind of cane Creighton actually used, but compared to this one uncle Vernon's cane had been harmless. He could feel the blood already running down his back upon only one single strike and still he fought for his breath, fought to not suffocate in the pain on the floor.

"Get up, Potter, and back against the wall!" Creighton hissed and he took another shuddering breath before he forced himself up with trembling knees. He placed his hands against the wall again and closed his eyes, concentrating, forcing himself to take calm breathes and to rest as long as he could between the strokes. It wasn't the first beating he received after all and he knew how to best handle it.

"Surprisingly painful, this cane, isn't it?" Creighton asked, but this time he didn't seem to expect an answer, because he immediately continued with his explanation. "Well, I'll tell you the rules now, boy. The absolute minimum is ten strokes, I won't start with less than that – but after that it depends on you. I want a decent apology, on your knees, I expect you to kiss my feet when you apologize and I expect you to swear any repayment on your side for your abysmal behaviour."

A moment later there was the next swish of air and again the pain of the cane hitting his flesh – because he knew that it wasn't just skin, because he _knew_ that the cane was slicing through his skin and was slicing through his flesh too – and again the pain of the cane hitting his flesh brought him on his knees, nearly elicited a scream and nearly had him choking for a moment.

"On your feet, boy!" Creighton hissed, kicking at him angrily. "How pathetic, unable to stay on your feet even! Well, _boy_ – I haven't even finished my rules. Because if you think that after an apology everything would be daisies and sunshine, then you're very wrong, Potter. Because after the apology you will receive another ten strokes – as a reminder to never ever again being disrespectful towards me!"

And the third stroke hit his flesh.

He wasn't able to keep from giving away a noise at all this time and even though it wasn't a scream yet – it had been a noise of pain and he hated himself for it while he again went to the floor, cringing with the pain, his hands shaking and feeling the blood running down his back, his sides, while he knelt on the floor. He couldn't gather his thoughts, any common sense, anything at all, because he had all of his hands full with fighting the pain and breathing had become incredibly difficult while through all the haze that swirled through his mind, he knew that it not only was because of the blinding pain, but because of the tears he was fighting too.

He wasn't stupid and so he knew that he _would_ cry – at one point or another, that he would beg Creighton on hands and knees to stop, that he would do _anything_ Creighton demanded, just to have him stopping, that he would lick the man's ass if necessary, if that would make him stopping, because he knew that at one point or another the beating would become unbearable, would become more than he could be able to handle.

And he knew it because he had cried in front of uncle Vernon, each time, he had begged his uncle on hands and knees, he had done – _that_ – just to make him stop, _anything_, just to make him stop. And he knew that it would be the same with Creighton. But he would fight it as long as possible he would do anything to keep his dignity as long as possible, he would …

The next stroke had him giving away a scream and a moment later he could taste blood in his mouth and knew that he had bit his tongue. He didn't even feel it with all the pain in his back, but even though he knew that he had to be careful or he could bite off his tongue, he couldn't even think of anything of that sort. Any conscious thought was cut off, like the skin Creighton was cutting off his back with that cane.

He didn't know how he had gotten back to his feet but that wasn't important anymore as long as he _was_ able to go back to his feet and to place his hands against the wall, trembling hands, but he didn't realize it – just to go back to his knees upon the next blinding stroke that added to the pain, to the blood he couldn't even feel running down his back anymore.

"Where's your protector now, Potter?" He heard Creighton's laughing voice when he was on his fours on the floor again, trying to catch his breath, trying to keep the tears at bay, trying to breathe one way or another. He didn't even try anymore to still the trembling of his body, knowing that it would be energy spent in vain. "Did he abandon you? You have failed him, you have failed Snape you have failed your daddy – he won't come this time!"

He _knew_ that!

Bastard, bloody bastard!

He _knew_ that, he _knew_ it and Creighton rubbed it into him like salt into his injuries, but even that only hurt numbly because the physical pain was so much worse than the emotional pain right now. He had brought it over himself with his remark about his name and he knew that Severus wouldn't stand for that, and so his father wouldn't come now.

Fighting with his weak and trembling knees he got to his feet again, he didn't know for how many times now, slowly and definitely unsteadily meanwhile. He knew that it wouldn't take much now until he broke, he knew that he wouldn't have the strength to withstand much more than that, he knew that …

He didn't even care anymore about the piercing scream he gave away upon the next stroke, it had become unimportant if he screamed or if he kept silence as long as he wouldn't start begging. That would come later, he knew, but for now – as long as he wouldn't start begging, as long as he wouldn't start … as long as he wouldn't …

But well, he had known that it would come to that, hadn't he?

Since the first time he had set his foot into the history of magic class this year – and had seen the new professor instead of Professor Binns, he had known that he would get into trouble with the man. Professor Creighton always had looked at him as if he were a particularly vile piece of anything – even worse than Severus had looked at him before the beginning of this school year and he had known that one day he would be in real trouble with the man. He just had hoped that it wouldn't be so soon – and not like this, _anything_ but this.

He didn't know how many strokes Creighton had done by now, he didn't know if the bastard had reached his minimum of ten strokes already, he didn't know how many more strokes he would be able to take without giving in, without sobbing and crying and begging and without doing whatever Creighton asked of him.

The only thing that had any meaning still was to get up and to brace his hands against the wall, again, and again, and again, breathing while he could before he would go to the floor again, taking one breath after another before the cane would slice his back open again, before …

Only one more stroke!

He had to take only one more stroke!

Only the next stroke!

That was all he could think of, concentrate on, to take stroke after stroke, not thinking of all the strokes that would follow this one stroke, but only the one that would come next, only one more, and only one more after that, and only one more …

Leaning with his hands at the wall still, breathing heavily, gasping for one shuddering breath after another, fighting for any kind of control and fighting to stay on his feet one way or another he braced himself for the next inevitable blow he knew would come, he knew would hurt like hell, just like all the others had done.

But well, this too he had already known before the beating had started, after all. He had known the kind of cane Creighton right now was lifting into the air over and over again, the one he always used to point at the board with. Uncle Vernon had used one too and so he had known what it would feel like.

And yet, this one was so much worse he barely was able to fathom it.

Gritting his teeth and steeling himself for the next blinding pain he took one breath after another, waiting, wondering why it took Creighton so long this time when the burning pain didn't come, still breathing in heavy and shuddering gasps.

Tiredly he dared to risk a careful look and he wondered why the man was just holding the cane midair without lowering it over his bare back again, and he didn't even notice the hand that was holding Creighton's wrist, nor the man looking startled, too absorbed into his own fight of staying sane one way or another to notice the Potions Master holding Creighton's wrist in a vice-like grip.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

The moment he entered the great hall his mood wasn't the best still.

He had released Weasley half an hour after the boy had exploded his cauldron, after he had showered, was lubed with a healing salve and clothed in some of his – Snape's – spare clothes. But half an hour, that had been too late for picking up the children at the DADA classroom and when he had roamed the corridors he hadn't seen any of them.

He had passed the history classroom, but everything had been alright. He had cast a quick but very effective charm, one that didn't do any harm but showed him where the students were – and none had been in any corner. Of course the charm would _not_ show him the children in person, that would have been against any school rules and breach their privacy, but it had showed him the location of their names and they all had been sitting at their respective desks.

Well, he would –

Coming closer to their table he noticed that Harry was not with them and he frowned, approaching the table with the children. None of them was eating anything, all of them were looking miserable, even Victor seemed unsure, and Draco got off the bench the moment he came closer, already facing him as if he had already awaited him.

"Where is Harry?" He immediately demanded, his voice dangerously soft and calm.

"With Creighton." Draco answered, just as softly, his face paler than it was normally and he just placed his hand at the boy's shoulder for a moment before he turned and left the great hall with long strides, worrying about what might have happened so that Creighton had kept Harry behind. He didn't trust the man and somehow he knew that Creighton surely had not kept Harry behind to explain him anything about history.

Well, he didn't even have to enter the history classroom to know that he had been correct – already when he turned left and into the west wing he heard a piercing scream that had his blood running cold, that had him frozen to a spot for a moment until his body turned into overdrive and he started running.

The scream didn't stop for several seconds, only slowly lessening on intensity and it still echoed in his mind when he threw the door open, the wood of the door banging against the stone wall before it crashed off its hinges.

One look into the classroom and seeing his son with his hands braced against the wall, trembling like a leaf in the wind was enough for him. He didn't have to see Creighton standing over the boy nor the bleeding cuts on Harry's back and in another swift move he was inside the classroom, beside Creighton and caught the man's wrist the moment he lifted the cane for another blow – and Merlin, it _was_ another and not the first, the child's already bleeding back was proof enough of that and he growled darkly.

"I would not move one single muscle if I were you, Creighton, not even for an inch." Severus' voice came from behind, hard, cold and merciless and Harry couldn't help shivering while at the same time he wondered what Severus was doing here. Creighton had told him that there wouldn't anyone be coming to rescue him, and he had known it anyway, because he had brought this punishment upon himself – but maybe it wasn't really Severus and he just imagined it. It wasn't the first time that such happened and he thought he saw someone to help him.

But still the next wave of pain didn't come and he concentrated back on his own world that was a haze of pain and fear and desperation, concentrated on only taking one breath after another while he leaned his forehead against the stony wall for a moment, glad for the relief the cold stone brought to his hot face. It wouldn't do him any good if he paid attention to an illusion, the reality was here and he had to fight in his reality.

Watching Harry out of the corner of his eyes, the boy leaning his head against the wall without paying any attention to him, he knew that his son was gone too far into a world of his own, a world in which only pain ruled, pain, helplessly and desperation, fear, agony – and he had to take a deep breath to being able and pull his eyes away.

A moment later the Potions Master pulled Creighton's arm down, snatching the cane out of the man's hand.

The crack of wood snapping into pieces was heard and another moment later Severus threw the broken pieces away from him with one harsh but fluid movement, the pieces hitting the wall before they fell to the stony floor with a clattering sound while at the same time he reached out to grab the man's throat. He had him nailed against the wall in another fluid move, pinning him there.

He had noticed Harry flinching upon each and every of those sounds, the breaking of the wood, the clattering when the pieces hit first the wall and then the floor, the thin body trembling and shivering without daring to move away from the wall, and his rage only increased to unknown heights upon seeing the boy standing there with his still so frail upper body uncovered, open and bleeding welts on the bony back and with his hands leaning against the wall, still not daring to leave the wall, to move at all, despite his, Severus' presence, and considering the fine tracks of perspiration that ran down the boy's bare back, mixing with the blood that was running down the bony back, he was sure that it was not only the cold this time but pain and fear as well that had Harry trembling and shivering uncontrollably.

"If I ever catch you near my son, just _looking_ at my son or speaking to my son ever again – then be assured, you will not survive it!" He hissed before he flicked his wand and had the man secured against the wall and unable to move.

Carefully he approached the boy who by now had sunken down to the floor, his legs unable to keep him upright any longer, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs and slowly he lifted one hand to place it on the soaked and trembling shoulder, the only reaction he caused being a violent flinch mixed up with a scared whimper and he took a deep breath himself.

Numbly, Harry sank to the floor, his knees giving way despite his willingness to keep standing and he didn't notice Severus kneeling beside him until he felt the pressure of the man's hand on his hurting shoulder and he couldn't help flinching away upon the touch. It took him a moment to realize that it indeed _was_ Severus Snape, the Potions Master, his father who indeed had come to rescue him – again, and he closed his eyes for a moment.

Severus didn't look as if he were ready to finish Creighton's work, he looked furious, but concerned at the same time and he couldn't help feeling relief flooding his body, couldn't help choking for a moment with relief, with the knowledge that it was over, for now at least.

Without removing his hand from Harry's soaked and trembling shoulder the Potions Master pulled one of the vials he always carried in the pockets of his robe, opening the stopper and placing the small glass container at his son's bleeding lips. He didn't know if Creighton had hit Harry in the face too or if Harry had simply bit his tongue or his lips, but first things first, he needed the boy to take the potion.

"It's a pain reliever, Harry." He softly said, trying to sound as calm as possible. "I need you to drink this one, Harry. It will take a moment but you should feel better then."

He watched Harry drinking the content obediently, not even shuddering at the taste, not even opening his eyes which he had closed meanwhile. He carefully turned a bit until he could see his son's back, not daring to move the child itself before the pain reliever had taken hold, and he nearly seethed with rage and fury the moment he had a closer look on the cuts.

He knew the kind of cane that had caused them, a simple cane, but with a spell on it that caused not only welts on the victim's skin, but actually cut their skin open with each careful blow even – and Creighton had lifted his arm high over his head for his blow when he had come into the room.

He watched Harry slowly but surely breathing calmer and the shaking eased into a constant but slight trembling, the pain reliever took hold and even if he knew that with these cuts the pain reliever surely didn't take the pain away completely, from the child calming down he guessed that at least the pain had become somewhat bearable.

"I will take a closer look at these, but first I'll take you home." He said, pulling his cloak off his shoulders and gently placing it over his son's, the boy flinching and hissing with pain upon the fabric touching his back even though he'd had the pain reliever. "I am sure that you will feel more comfortable there than here." He added while gently pulling the boy up from the floor.

A moment later Harry's knees gave way again and without even trying to get him on his feet a second tome, Severus readjusted his hold on the child and ran his other hand behind the boy's knees, lifted his son's body into his arms and carried him out of the history classroom and down the corridor. He forced himself to ignore the painful whimpers that escaped Harry upon the contact of his arm on the child's back, just tried to shift him in his arms so that the boy lay more on his side than on his back while he called for his house elf even without stopping in his steps.

"I need you to prepare Harry's bed." He said when Zilly arrived with a _'pop'_, the small house elf needing a moment until realizing that his Master was quickly striding along the corridor and then falling into step with the Potions Master, having to run for being able to. "I also need warm water, clean clothes and my emergency potions kit in Harry's room. After that I want you to get Poppy and to inform the headmaster that he will find Creighton in his classroom, bound and ready for the aurors to pick him up for abusing a student, bodily harm, and risking a student's life. Please do inform Albus that the student harmed is my son and that he better won't set Creighton free."

"Of course, Master Snape" Zilly said curtly, with one quick worried glance at the child in his arms and then disappeared with another soft _'pop'_, again causing the slight body in his arms to flinch upon the sound and again he threatened to suffocate in his anger and in his fury, in his worry.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Hush now, child." He softly said while trying to keep Harry still on the bed and cleaning out the cuts on his back at the same time. He knew that the boy surely wasn't in pain anymore, he meanwhile had given his son a double dose of his strongest pain reliever he had, but he knew the fear and the shock the boy still had to be in. "I won't harm you, but I have to clean out these cuts or they will become infected. Why don't you try and relax a bit … no, Harry, stay on your stomach. I won't do anything else than cleaning out these cuts and then covering them with a healing salve. I know that you are scared, anyone would be, but I won't harm you, I promise, I won't do anything without informing you beforehand about my move."

"'m sorry …" The boy said, whispered, and not for the first time.

"There is no need to be, Harry." He gently reassured, and not for the first time either. "You have done nothing wrong and Creighton won't come near you ever again. He is just about to leave this school forever, I have made sure of that."

"'m sorry …" Was again all the boy whispered, was in fact the only thing Harry had whispered every now and then since he had brought him home.

"Severus?" Poppy's voice came from the doorway, causing Harry to flinch back violently again, trying to scoot away again and he gritted his teeth while taking hold on the boy's arms to keep him from hurting himself with pressing his back against the wall what he surely would have done otherwise.

"It is only Poppy, Harry." He said while increasing the hold he had on the boy's shoulder when Harry started struggling and while the boy had not cried so far since he'd brought him home, this new fear seemed too much on his clearly overstrained nerves and he started crying now.

"Move over, Severus and sit on that bed with your son." Poppy said and he was more than happy to oblige, gently lifted the thin body off the bed and sat down himself, cradling the boy to his chest so that his raw back was turned to Poppy. He shifted one foot onto the edge of the bed so that Harry was laying in his arms more stable, his thigh supporting Harry's midsection, and then ran his right hand over the hot face. He leaned over to take hold of the fever reducer and gently he poured the potion into the boy's mouth before he took a cloth from the nightstand and began wiping the blood from Harry's lips away.

"Open your mouth for a moment please, Harry." He softly said, gently nudging the boy's lower yaw. "I need to see where all this blood is coming from, alright?" Well, it took him a few attempts to get his son to open his mouth and he wasn't sure if it was due to his explanation or due to the nudging, he wasn't even sure if his son actually understood everything he said. But the moment he finally had a clear view of the boy's mouth he clearly could see the bite wound where Harry had bitten his tongue. Luckily it wasn't too deep and it would heal. Gently and slowly he poured another potion into the child's mouth, a healing potion this time. It would heal the tongue and it wouldn't harm anything else, on the contrary, it hopefully would help in healing the boy's body generally.

"Who did this, Severus?" Poppy asked and he needed a moment to concentrate on the woman's question.

"Creighton." He softly said, refusing to startle the boy with another growl while he ran a wet cloth over the hot and damp face. He didn't like the glassy look in Harry's eyes, nor the far away look either, but he only could hope that for now it was shock only and that after a night's sleep the boy would feel better.

"I will write a report and send it to child welfare too." Poppy said while cleaning her hands off the healing salve she had covered Harry's back with and he nodded.

"Very good, that way Creighton won't be able to come near children ever again." He answered, watching Harry's eyes dropping slowly but surely, the boy was about to fall asleep on him – again.

The thing was – he didn't mind.

"I won't cover them with bandages, Severus." Poppy got up and packed her things away, re-arranged his things so that he would be able reaching them easily without releasing his son. "I think it is best if the skin has more time to absorb the salve before it is covered with anything. I guess you will be able to re-apply the salve later in a thicker layer before you cover the boy's upper body with bandages."

"Of course, Poppy." He softly said while Harry in his arms fell asleep, exhaustedly. "Thank you."

break ... ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ... line

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued<strong>

**Next time in A few days more**

__________________How to deal with what has been done to you? How to deal with your child taking two steps back?__________________

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too, thank you …

**House cup: **

At the present time it looks like this:

708 - Gryffindor - Head of House: Catlady

701 - Slytherin - Head of House: evil minded

576 - Ravenclaw - Head of House: Arithmancy Master

340 - Hufflepuff - Head of House: still a free post


	21. resign to surrender

**Title:**

A few days more

Sequel to twenty-one days

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Fourth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

"A few days more" is the sequel to "Twenty-one days" – read and review this first or you wouldn't understand all that happens in this story.

The fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindors have survived their imprisonment in the potions classroom situated in the dungeons. How will they go on in all-day life after their survival? How will they manage to reintegrate into the castle's routine and their classes? How will they be able to go back to life at all? Watch how those who survived fight for their lives and for their peace, for their place in the community at Hogwarts.

**Disclaimer: **

Did you see Severus alive at the end of _'The deathly hallows'_? no?

Do you think I would have had him died if I had written those books? no?

Then you know that _'Harry Potter'_ does not belong to me … nor does Severus … regrettably … he belongs to J. K. Rowling …

But Hereweald Hrothgar does …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

Alright – originally I've had planned to have the last chapter, chapter 20, being the last before NaNo – seeing that it was a good number … but after reading your reviews and how emotional this last chapter has made you, I feel that I have to post one more chapter … don't think this will work each time and that this way you'll get me to write for NaNo AND for fanfiction … that won't work because it won't be possible … and I'm not doing this because I'm such a kind person either – because I'm NOT …

I'm still not well and the longer the relapse lasts the more difficult it will become to break through it in the first place, and it's been weeks now, but well, I just wanted to tell you that - don't be disappointed for a shorter answer to your reviews - and for maybe a chapter that might not be up to your expectations ...

**Warning:**

Story contains references to child abuse.

Child-abuse is a really serious thing, it is an evil thing and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help without being helped, and closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist, is no solution …

I only say - remind yourself of your feelings, of your sympathy, and of your understanding … and handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once being abused … with understanding and with help …

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me - I am …

* * *

><p>break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line<p>

**Previously in A few days more**

_"Who did this, Severus?" Poppy asked and he needed a moment to concentrate on the woman's question. _

_"Creighton." He softly said, refusing to startle the boy with another growl while he ran a wet cloth over the hot and damp face. He didn't like the glassy look in Harry's eyes, nor the far away look either, but he only could hope that for now it was shock only and that after a night's sleep the boy would feel better. _

_"I will write a report and send it to child welfare too." Poppy said while cleaning her hands off the healing salve she had covered Harry's back with and he nodded. _

_"Very good, that way Creighton won't be able to come near children ever again." He answered, watching Harry's eyes dropping slowly but surely, the boy was about to fall asleep on him – again. The thing was – he didn't mind. _

_"I won't cover them with bandages, Severus." Poppy got up and packed her things away, re-arranged his things so that he would be able reaching them easily without releasing his son. "I think it is best if the skin has more time to absorb the salve before it is covered with anything. I guess you will be able to re-apply the salve later in a thicker layer before you cover the boy's upper body with bandages."_

_"Of course, Poppy." He softly said while Harry in his arms fell asleep, exhaustedly. "Thank you."_

**A few days more**

**Chapter twenty-one **

**Day twenty-one – twelfth of October – Saturday**

**Resign to surrender**

"Draco?" Adrian asked and he forced himself out of his own numbness and to look down at the younger boy.

"Yes, Adrian?" He asked.

Severus had put Adrian into his and Theo's room, had told them that Harry wasn't up for company in his room, and Merlin!

They had just been finished with lunch, they had just arrived at their quarters, when Severus had carried Harry in, bleeding, and … and wrapped into Severus' cloak, into Severus' cloak that was covered with Harry's blood, as was the shirt over Severus' arms and his hands. And Severus had been as pale as had been Harry – or at least what he had seen of Harry's face.

Harry himself had been laying in Severus' arms as if dead.

"You think that was Creighton?" Adrian asked, his eyes large on him.

Adrian had climbed into his bed shortly after Severus had brought him in for the next one or two days and he had pulled the younger boy close.

"Sure it was!" Neville answered for him.

Well, it was his room, and now he shared it with Neville and Miles too, but he didn't mind. These two had come shortly after, Neville softly knocking at his door, Miles' hand in his, and he just had waved them in.

"You think Creighton will do the same to us?" Miles softly asked.

"Nope." Theodore answered from the doorway and he smiled, waving him inside the room too. "Severus will have Creighton's ass for that and he will tear Creighton apart from his ass cheeks up to the cheeks in his face. When he's through with him, then that bastard won't be able to sit, move or come close to any child ever again. I bet he will end up in Azkaban for that!"

"I'm not sure about that." Blaise said. Blaise had been the first, already accompanying him into his room when he had come here. "Azkaban, I mean, but yes, Severus will give him hell for that. I wonder if Creighton is alive still even."

"He is." Draco sighed. "I know Severus and as bad tempered as he can be, he is too rational for an emotional move like killing Creighton. He had to tend to Harry first and he had to regard ending up in Azkaban for killing Creighton. He knew that the bastard wasn't worth it, because we need Severus. Who would look after us if he's in Azkaban? And Harry!"

"You're right." Neville growled darkly and he chuckled. "But that doesn't make it any better, I'd love it to see Severus with Creighton for only ten minutes."

"He should get an hour with Creighton!" Adrian sobbed. "I'm scared, Draco! What if Harry dies?"

"He won't die, Adrian." Draco said, trying to soothe the boy. "Severus will make sure. Harry will be alright."

"I hate Creighton!" Miles sobbed in Neville's arms. "And Moody too."

"Don't worry, Miles, Severus will take care of Moody too the moment we tell him about last lesson." He reassured the younger boy.

"I don't think that's such a good idea." Neville said and he frowned.

"Why ever not, Neville?" He asked.

"Because Severus has enough on his hands with Harry and with Creighton." The other boy softly answered. "We should try to deal with Moody ourselves and leave Severus to care for Harry."

"I don't think _that's_ a good idea." He slowly shook his head. "Severus always told us to inform him about any abuse and that's what Moody did."

"That might be, but Severus really has enough on his hands now, and he has enough worry with Harry too, and with you, Theo." Hermione commented from the doorway. "I think, Moody is a small problem compared to Harry's health right now and we should try to solve that problem alone."

"That's the way of thinking you have learned in Gryffindor because Professor McGonagall has never cared for you like Severus does." He growled at the girl. He didn't even try to wave her in, knowing that she wouldn't be able to enter anyway. "But Severus does care and he has to know about what happens so that he can do something."

"That might be, Theo." The girl said. "But it also has made us independent."

"And what if we expect too much of him?" Blaise asked and he frowned at him, because Blaise should know better. "He's human only and he's not well at all! He has his limits too and – dunno, I don't want to lose him because we load too much on him." He could understand Hermione's reasoning, but not Blaise's

"You know that Severus will have our hides if he learns of this later?" He asked, seriously, trying to get the others to reason. He wouldn't go against them, not before it wasn't absolutely necessary, but he tried to get them to see reason.

"He won't learn about it, not if we've dealt with the problem." Weasley said from beside Hermione and even if Weasley was their prefect – and had behaved alright so far – he still didn't like him and so he didn't wave him into his room.

"Believe me, Weasley, he will learn of if, you don't fool around with Severus, and after that he will have our hides." He reassured the red-head. "He does take his responsibility very seriously after all."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

If he didn't have Harry still laying in his lap, sleeping at the moment, even though this sleep was anything than a restless sleep, then he would have gone back to Creighton to kill the man, slowly but surely kill him, to break each and every bone that bastard had in his sorry body before skinning him, before using any painful potion on him he knew, any painful spell, while denying him death for preferably days and weeks.

But he _had_ Harry laying over his lap, and fortunately so, he knew, because seeing that he wasn't ready to release the child, to leave his son alone right now, he couldn't get to torture and then kill Creighton – and that meant, the sleeping child he held in his arms right now was keeping him from getting a lifelong stay in Azkaban.

Merlin, last time he had seen the boy like this, trembling and pale to death, and with a damp face that spoke of pain – despite being asleep – had been just last week after he had picked Harry up from the Weasley twins' party. And now, only a week later, he had the same situation again – only worse and only because not childish misjudgment but the cruelly of an adult, again in Harry's life due to the cruelly of an adult.

**Flashback**

_"What are you doing here, Mr. Weasley?" He asked Frederic Weasley when he met the boy roaming the dungeons, wondering where the other imbeciles might be and why they would include roaming the castle into their games – they were bound to have a simple party in the Gryffindor common room after all, not a hunting party through the castle. _

_**Flashback within flashback**_

_"Please, dad!" Harry asked of him, looking up with large green puppy eyes and even though he never had been one to give in to such a look coming from begging children, he right now was forced to learn – it was different if said look came from his own son who had been denied everything in the past and who asked something of him for the first time. "Please! I promise we'll behave and we'll be good and we won't do anything and we'll be home on time and we …"_

_"Harry …"_

_"Just please, dad, please, please, I'll really do anything, I'll scrub cauldrons and I'll …"_

_"Harry!" He sternly said when the boy started to go from the 'we' to the 'I', frowning. Merlin! The boy never had asked anything of him and now he was so desperate to get his permission to visit this bloody party – how could he not allow it now?_

_Not to mention, he wondered why the boy asked in the first place, in the past he never would have asked, and he had made it clear that his former house still was allowed to him, that he could go to the lion's tower whenever he wanted – and now he desperately was begging for his permission to visit a party the lions were giving for the 'homecomers' as they called it._

_"Of course you may – if you promise to come home the moment you are tired, feel unwell or any of the Gryffindors starts trouble." He said, shaking his head._

_**End flashback within flashback**_

_"It's Harry, sir." The boy answered and he frowned. "He isn't feeling well."_

_Without a word he gestured for Weasley to lead the way and then followed quickly. _

_The moment he entered the Gryffindor common room he didn't have to ask any more questions, because it was clear what the problem with Harry – who was laying on his side on one of the red sofas in the circular room, his fingers cramped into the fabric of the t-shirt over his stomach – seemed to be, namely stomach aches, cramps because of having indulged in too much sweets and snacks. Of course the boy's stomach would not manage that yet. He as well could have given the child a large steak with a lot of lardy French fries and chocolate cake as desert, and sighing he went over to the boy, ignoring all the Gryffindors who watched him with overly large eyes, and knelt down on one knee in front of the sofa. _

_**Flashback within flashback**_

_"Don't eat too much, Harry." He said when they were about to leave. He hadn't allowed Emma, Adrian and Miles, the three too young for this party in his opinion, but he had given his permission for the remainder of the children, even though Cameron had shaken his head and told him that he wouldn't attend a 'children's party'_

_"Won't, I promise."_

_"And no sweets or sausages, Harry, no cake." He said, knowing that it was unfair that the boy had to watch what he was eating on a party given for him and the others._

_"I won't, really."_

_"From the snacks you may have, but be careful to not indulge too much in them."_

_"I won't, I promise."_

_"And no alcohol, drugs or sex either." He added, lifting his eyebrow to keep himself from smirking._

_"Dad!" Was Harry's shocked reply, followed by an "uncle Severus!" from Draco and a "Merlin!" from Neville. _

_**End flashback within flashback**_

_"Harry." He announced his approach before he placed his hand over the pale face that was twisted into a mask of pain. _

_"Hurts …" Seemed all the boy was able to get out at the moment and he sighed again. _

_"I can see that." He said, while taking the boy's shoulders and getting him into a sitting position – very much to the dislike of said boy who struggled to stay in his curled up position on the sofa. "Just take this potion, Harry, it will help with the cramping and then I suggest we get you home and to bed where you surely will feel more comfortable than here on that sofa."_

_"Don't wanna go up, dad." The boy whined and he took a deep breath._

_"Understandable." He calmly said while pulling the boy up anyway before reaching over a vial. "But you barely would be able taking the potion in the position you have in been before. That potion, Harry, now."_

_For a moment he couldn't help remembering their imprisonment, couldn't help remembering the time when he'd had to somehow keep these children alive, one way or another, without knowing the outcome of all of this, despite attacks, despite accidents, despite … _

_**Flashback within flashback**_

_"Does your eyes still hurt, Harry?" He asked gently and the boy again nodded._

_"Headache." Came a rough whisper from the boy and he reached the cup towards Draco who took it immediately._

_"That had to be expected." He said, gently pulling the boy's other hand and the cool cloth away from his eyes. "I need to have a look at your eyes. Open them. Slowly."_

_Well, the boy did, a fraction, before quickly pressing them shut again with a sharp hiss of pain and he was not sure if it was because of the movement itself or because of the light blinding him._

_"Open them, Potter! Now!" He ordered, again feeling sorry about using such a harsh tone with the boy that definitely was in a mixture of shock, fear and pain, but he simply had to know if there was more damage than he had thought originally. He wasn't able to use a diagnostic spell as still no magic worked down here, and so he had to retreat to using simple muggle ways for examining the boy._

_"Hurts." Came the next raspy comment and he gritted his teeth for a moment._

_"I know, Potter." He said, forcing himself to not sound worried or upset. "I need them open for a moment nevertheless. Now, Potter, if you don't want to find yourself in detention for the rest of your stay here."_

_**End flashback within flashback**_

_"Come now." He said a moment later, pulling the boy off the sofa but another moment later Harry was bent forwards, heavily leaning on his, Snape's, arms. Sighing and throwing dignity to the wind he pulled his son into his arms, in the midst of the Gryffindor common room filled with imbecilic lions watching his ever move and he swore that he would have Harry paying for losing his dignity while he carried him out of the room, through the corridors and down into the dungeons, their home._

**End flashback**

Well, of course he hadn't let Harry pay for it.

He'd had the boy taking a warm bath with a relaxing potion in it and he'd had the boy laying on his bed after that, massaging Harry's stomach and his lower body before going over to massaging the boy's limbs while he was at it.

A real problem had been the boy's visit to the bathroom. He hadn't noticed it first until he had passed the bathroom, hearing soft crying and he had entered, not caring about the dignity of the child in there if there was need to cry. Well, he had found Harry on the loo, bent forwards and rocking back and forth with obvious stomach cramps.

It hadn't been easy to reassure that child that it was alright, that he had seen him in the bathroom before, during their imprisonment, that there was no need for being ashamed and surely not for his body function that anyone had, but in the end he'd managed to get Harry relaxed enough so that he'd been able to take another potion for the cramps.

The bloody Gryffindors had been another thing. These imbeciles had more than once whispered behind his back, whispered while pointing at him, Snape, the evil Potions Master who had carried a child out of their common room, some of the girls even giving away a heavy sigh, _smiling_ at him and he only had been able to gain his reputation back by giving out detentions and taking points – Gryffindor must have lost more points than ever in the history of that house – Minerva at least was not happy, neither with him nor with her lions and that was a small satisfaction – that and the little fact that they soon had learned to better forget what they had seen, because he still was the evil dungeons bastard that had them crying and cringing upon his mere appearance.

"Severus?" Albus' voice got him off his thoughts and he looked up at the headmaster.

"I take it that Creighton is arrested by the aurors?" He asked, not even caring about a greeting.

"He is." The headmaster answered, seriously. "I would have been here earlier, but Poppy already has visited me and I've had a look at Harry's files."

"Just tell me that he won't be allowed to teach any child ever again." He demanded and for once Albus nodded.

"He won't." The older wizard answered. "He has been taken into custody by the aurors and he has been brought to one of the high security Ministry cells. He will be there until his trial and after that I'm sure that he'll be shipped off to Azkaban straight. They've said that he'd been wanted already."

"You have hired a wanted person, Albus?" He couldn't help asking, incredulously. "After you have hired a werewolf last year and two idiots the years before that?"

"He hasn't been wanted as Carl Creighton but as Falk Fenrir, son of Finn Fenrir, Grayback."

"Fenrir." He gasped, looking up at the headmaster startled. "Creighton was Fenrir? Merlin! How could we have been so blind! And I thought that he only had a grudge against me because of my Death Eater status."

"Apparently not." Albus softly said, sitting into a chair beside him, his blue eyes on Harry. "It was a mistake on my part, I should have checked him for polyjuice potion, he was an unknown teacher after all. How is Harry doing?"

"What do you think how he's doing, Albus?" He asked, angrily. He should have recognized Fenrir! "You have read Harry's files!"

"Merlin, yes! I have!" Albus looked grieved. There was no twinkling in his blue eyes and the old face seemed older than it ever had been before.

"I want my house out of classes, Albus." He said, his eyes still on Harry's slight body laying halfway in his arms, halfway over his lap.

"Severus?" The headmaster asked, incredulously, blinking at him stupidly and he would have growled at the man if he had not had a child in his arms that was – even though asleep – scared to death by his teachers. Really, his friend and mentor or not, but Albus could be such an idiot sometimes.

"Since they are back to classes these children's needs are ignored by their teachers at the best and abused at the worse, headmaster." He said, using the term headmaster to show Albus – he _meant_ it, this was business and he would not back away. "Except of Minerva, Filius, Hereweald and Pomona – all head of houses, mind you – they have been disregarded by any other teacher. They are either not allowed to drink during their lessons, even though their drinks contain the potions they _need_, and they are not allowed rest even though they need rest after they have nearly died only a few weeks ago. On the contrary, headmaster, they are put into corners, given detention or even beaten – what do you think will happen after this now? They will be scared, all of them will be scared of any next lesson they have with any teacher because they have lost their trust in them, especially Harry."

"I have not thought at that, Severus." Albus said, looking miserable. "Harry has always been so strong in dealing with such things."

"Of course he has!" He said, very much wanting to snap at the headmaster. "After he has learnt how to deal with cruel abuse and neglect at the hands of his relatives, of course he is able to deal with abuse at this school too. But that doesn't make it any better and that doesn't change the fact that the child will be scared upon any next lessons."

"I assume you can help him getting over this fear." Albus calmly said and for a moment he wasn't sure if the older wizard was serious, if he was simply stupid or cold as ice.

"I shouldn't have to." He nearly hissed. "My son should not be facing such things at this school. Creighton has gone way over the line here and we both know it."

"Of course I do know it, Severus, but I do have to warrant my decision to the board." Albus said and he huffed at the headmaster. "And we both know that one of the heads on the board is Lucius Malfoy. It will be difficult enough to begin with dealing with them."

"I do not care about the board, Albus." He said. "My son has been beaten into a bloody pulp by one of your teachers, the children in my house have been abused by some of your teachers, their needs are neglected nearly constantly – I _will_ teach them myself from this very beginning on."

"Severus you …"

"This is not up for discussion, Albus!"

"But you cannot …"

"I have taught them for three weeks already." He said. "During our imprisonment I already _have_ overtaken any other subject they've been ready to learn – what had been surprising many subjects actually. They _want_ to learn if only they are given the chance to. I will teach them again and that is not up for discussion, I do not care _if_ you inform the board or _how_ you gain their approval."

"Very well, Severus." Albus sighed and inwardly he himself breathed a sigh of relief.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

After Harry had fallen asleep and Dumbledore had left he had put Harry to bed, laying him on his stomach and then covering the boy with another layer of the healing salve, wincing himself upon touching the still slightly bleeding welts, but due to the pain reliever and other potions in the boy's system he at least had not woken.

On a strong and healthy fourteen year old the first layer of the healing salve together with the healing potion he had given Harry earlier would have done most of the healing already, There would have been a few sore lines left but they would have been closed by now. But Harry was no healthy and strong fourteen year old child – he was thin and bony still, easily tiring out and his body was anything than healthy in the first place – of course the healing potion and the salve didn't have the same effect.

The cuts definitely did look much better than they had after he had brought the child home, but some of them still were bleeding, the ones that didn't anymore were still sore and tender welts that were barely healed over.

He then had cast a covering spell over Harry's back, not ready to wrap the boy's upper body into bandages completely. Not only would it have limited Harry's range of movement but also would it most likely have scared the boy too and he was not ready for that.

He had made sure that he was informed upon Harry waking, that Zilly was close by – namely sitting beside Harry's bed – and then he had taken a look at the other children – who had been worried, but fine. He had told them to leave Harry alone, never mind their worries, and to not leave their quarters, had told them that he would be back home as soon as possible.

Of course Draco and Theodore had asked what he was about to do, their pale faces worried and he had known that they had known his destiny – and had been worried that he could overstep a line.

"How can I help you, Professor Snape?" Will asked, sounding just as worried as had Draco and Theodore and he knew that – Will too knew about his plans – and didn't like it.

"You know very well what reason for I am here, Will, do not play dump on me." He growled.

"Are you sure that you will go this step, Professor?" Will asked and he narrowed his eyes at the boy.

Will Allison had been one of his more worrying problem children during his time in Slytherin and he was glad that the boy had found a place where he could do what had been denied to him – namely caring about children.

"If you are trying to change my mind, then you just as well can sign these papers and let me down into the dungeons." He growled, leaning with his hands onto the tabletop and leaning closer, glad that Will was _not_ intimidated by him, the boy had grown – good. "It is my lawful right to being here under several conditions and I happen to fulfil all of them. I am here in time, I am the child's father, the boy is not of age yet, Fenrir has drawn blood, I have not harmed Fenrir yet and I hereby swear that I won't kill him."

Well, that was the wizarding law.

A father had the right to punish any abuser of his child if blood had been drawn by the abuser, if a potion had been used or if a spell had been used to harm the child. He had the right doing so while the father could be considered as _'acting in an affect'_ – within six hours after the abuse or learning of it. In other words – immediately upon the abuse or learning of it, or later (within the time mentioned before) as long as he had not harmed the abuser in any way possible before. And last but not least – as long as the child was not of age and as long as he, the father, swore that he would not kill the abuser – what he had just done.

Then he had an hour with the culprit.

"I'm not trying to change your mind, Professor, if anyone has a right to do this, then it is you." Will said. "I just fear that you might end up in Azkaban and that surely would be a death warrant for one or another child at Hogwarts."

"You should know that I am a collected and rational man, Will, not an emotional fool of a Gryffindor." He growled at his former student.

"I do." The boy said. "But I also know that you can have a temper – and I know how protective you are when it comes to children."

"I do not have a temper, Mr. Allison!" He angrily hissed. "And now you sign these papers or I will address Miss Harvest with the issue, I am sure that she will let me through right away."

"I already have signed them, Professor, and they are already down in the holding area." The boy smirked at him and he huffed, looking at the brat angrily before turning to leave the office.

"Professor." Will called after him and he stopped, without looking back even. He just wanted to be down there. "Remember that you are not to use any spell that could be considered dark magic, and remember that you have an hour exactly."

He gave a curt nod away, still without turning, before he went on and crossed the corridor, entering the hall that would lead to the dungeons of the ministry building, and to the holding cells.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Finally know who I am, don't you, Snape?" Fenrir asked and he growled at the man.

He didn't even feel the need to answer the son of the werewolf.

Falk Fenrir, son of Finn Fenrir, the Grayback, the werewolf – the only son of a werewolf in the history of Hogwarts, like there only had been one werewolf in the history of Hogwarts either. And both had been in the same year, in different houses, but in the same year and while Remus Lupin, the werewolf, had been harmless – Finn Fenrir, the son of another werewolf, had not been, even though he had not been an actual werewolf himself.

Waving his wand he had the bastard turned and leaning with his hands against the wall, with his hands _glued_ against the wall and another moment later he had the man's back bare.

"And here we are for revenge, again." The man laughed at him.

Yes, he was.

Like Fenrir had been there for revenge too.

Only that the werewolf's son had chosen the wrong person for revenge.

It all had started during their first year at Hogwarts.

Where Remus Lupin had tried to keep his lycanthropy a secret for as long as possible, Fenrir had not done the same about his father's status, but had boasted about having a werewolf as his father – to inflict fear amongst his fellow students, and successfully so.

He didn't bother with a muggle move like a whip or a cane – he simply waved is wand, because that way he could make sure that each stroke he inflicted upon Fenrir now would reappear exactly twenty-four hours later again – for the remainder of the man's life. And he would make sure that he handed out as much strokes as possible.

"Nice, Snape." Fenrir gasped after going to his knees upon the pain his first lash had caused.

And it wasn't the first time that Fenrir did.

All of the students had been scared of the werewolf's son, because he always had threatened them with his father, had threatened that he would send his father to their parents – the problem was, _he_ had not cared about his father being alive or not, and so he hadn't been scared of Fenrir's threat either. And he had fought many of a fight with the werewolf's son.

When they'd been in their sixth year, just the year after Black and Potter had played the prank on him with Lupin, a prank that nearly had cost his life, Fenrir had attacked a student, a first year Slytherin. He had used polyjuice potion to transform into his father and while a werewolf normally would transform back into a human being after the full moon – Fenrir Grayback had never done so, had always forced his body to keep some of his werewolf traits, like – just for example – some of his wolf claws, and some of his fangs.

So Fenrir junior had transformed into his father's form of being _'human'_ and had then attacked the first year student after the younger child had not cared about his father being alive or dead either, had therefore not done the older student's orders either.

"You've lost your bite, Snape." The man groaned out between clenched teeth.

He knew that he hadn't, but if Fenrir tried to make him angry, so that he would start talking instead of inflicting pain, then he was wrong – then it was the same he had tried back then, eighteen years in the past.

He had waited for a day or two, had waited if Dumbledore would do something, or if maybe Slughorn would do something – but already back then he had known that Slughorn wouldn't do something, Slughorn never had done _anything_, because Slughorn was as scared as were the rest of the students.

When neither of the two had done anything, he had taken matters into his own hands and he had once and for all ended the idiot's behaviour. He had given him a piece of his own medicine and Fenrir had ended up with a few nice cuts over his own chest. After that the son of the werewolf had stopped his arrogant and threatening activities.

Surely not because he, Snape, had handed out a few lashes with a well placed spell to slice Fenrir's chest, no – it rather had been because after the first year had ended up in the hospital wing with his sliced chest, with his mutilated chest, where he had died because the cuts had become infected. Of course Fenrir Senior had gotten wind of his son's actions after that – he didn't know what exactly the werewolf had done, but he knew that he had punished his son and he knew that Fenrir junior had never ever again threatened any student – at least until he had left Hogwarts. He had lost sight of the other after that.

"Still a bastard …" Fenrir choked out between gasps and trying to somehow catch his breath.

He knew that all the open welts would be healed by tomorrow morning, would be scars only, red scars, pink scars, fresh scars, but they would be scars only by tomorrow morning, the werewolf's blood running through his system healing him much quicker than any other human would heal and so he had no problem with beating the man for an hour without allowing any distraction, handing out many more strokes than Fenrir had handed out to his son, he didn't care about that, he had an hour after all.

He wasn't really impressed by the scream coming from Fenrir, but that didn't matter, because he knew that Fenrir hadn't been impressed by Harry's screams either.

He couldn't really understand why the idiot had chosen Harry for his games anyway, he should have known that he would have him paying for it – so why had he? What had been Fenrir's reasoning? Fenrir was an idiot, but he wasn't stupid and of course he had known that Harry was Severus' son, and so he of course had also known that – he would have revenge for his actions.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

In the end Fenrir had hung on the wall, his hands glued to the rough and cold stone while his knees had been on the floor, screaming with each blow his wand caused and he had been satisfied with the knowledge that the bastard would suffer the same every twenty-four hours for the remainder of his life – that could last for many years yet.

"Two things are inexplorable." Was all he had said to the man after his hour had been over. "The wisdom of the Lord and the stupidity of men – because you should have known that you wouldn't get away with it, Fenrir."

He had gone home after he had made sure that not only the guard but Will too saw the werewolf's son alive, just in case, and after he had appointed Will as his lawfully child welfare representative for all of Harry's trials – and he knew that now, after the issue with Fenrir would end up at court, it would be time for the Dursleys being called to court too. He had been very glad that Will had agreed immediately, and he also had been glad about Zilly's reassurance that Harry had not woken while he'd been gone.

He hadn't though that the boy would, not after that strenuous day, after being exhausted beyond his limits, and surely not after a double dose of his strongest pain reliever, not to mention the healing potions and the calming draught Harry had in his system despite his weak body that shouldn't have to deal with so many potions in the first place. Of course the child would be out of it for most of the day.

But well, if you speak of the devil – small whimper got him out of his thoughts and he paid attention to said child in the bed beside the armchair he was sitting in again since he had come back home from the ministry.

"Easy, child." He softly said, gently, reaching out to run his hand through Harry's hair. A moment later he leaned over to place his hand on the boy's neck instead, the only spot he right now could be sure wouldn't hurt upon touch and where he could keep the boy from turning. "Stay on your stomach … no, don't turn … you'll hurt yourself … Harry! … don't … stop struggling and … just calm down, child … you're at home, you're safe … that's it, child … very good … that's it, just stay on your stomach …"

"'m sorry, sir." Was – how could it be otherwise – again the only thing the boy murmured after he had calmed down enough to recognize his surroundings and the person who was with him.

"There is no reason to be, Harry." He gently said, his hand still on his son's neck while his thumb ran over the soft skin traitorously. "There is no reason to be ashamed either, Harry." He then added, shifting a bit so that he could look into the pale face more easily, noticing the red spots on the nearly white face. "It is Creighton who should be ashamed, Harry. And his name isn't even Creighton. His name was Falk Fenrir, son of Finn Fenrir, Grayback, a werewolf in the Death Eater's ranks. He has been arrested and he won't teach any child ever again, he won't come close to any child ever again. He will end up in Azkaban and you won't see him ever again, Harry."

"'m sorry."

Of course the child would say that.

"There's still no need to be, child." He said, softly, trying to not sounding annoyed. It wasn't Harry's fault after all. "It is late evening, Harry." He then started to explain, just to give the boy a sense of where he was, what time it was meanwhile, what had happened in the world around him, to keep him from falling into an abyss of loneliness. He would make sure that the boy wouldn't feel alone, that he wouldn't drown in desperation and the carelessness of the people around him. "The others have had their dinner already, but not in the great hall tonight. We've had dinner in the kitchen here and we've had invited Victor. He would have been alone at our table otherwise. We just didn't want you being alone either."

"'m sorry." Came the same remark again and he had known that it would come.

"There is no need to be." He himself repeated, wondering who of the two would go insane upon the repeated remarks first, Harry or him – but most likely it would be him. "We've had decided it as a group and we felt better here than in the great hall anyway. Are you hungry, child? You need to eat something, Harry." He added upon the slight headshake he received. "Your body will need any strength it can get, your body needs food and fluids. Very good, child." He said when the boy gave in with a tired sigh, remembering how important it was for the boy to being called 'child', remembering how good the child felt upon being addressed as such.

"Then let me help you, Harry." He softly said, reaching over with his other hand, slowly, to take the boy's upper arm and gently he first turned his son on his side before he gently pulled him up and into a sitting position.

"That's alright?" He asked, his eyes narrowed at the pale face – and the boy nodded. Of course he would nod, even if it weren't ok and so he only could guess. Well, it would do for now, even though he knew that it wouldn't do for long. Harry would feel better by tomorrow, he knew, but he would definitely need the night to recover more.

He waited until the teen was sitting in his bed steadily before reaching over and taking the glass with orange juice from the nightstand, handing it over to the boy who took it with trembling hands. Trembling hands that shook so badly, he had to steady them or the boy would have spilled the juice all over his bed. And of course …

"Sorry sir …" The boy said while for the first time looking up at him – with large and fear filled eyes.

"There is no need to be, Harry." He said, forcing himself to not choke upon the scared green eyes watching him as if he feared a beating because his hands shook, because he, Snape, his father, had to steady them. "You are seriously injured, Harry, you have been seriously abused by a teacher of this school and you have every right to being scared and in need of support. You have every right to show any body reactions like trembling hands or the need to lean on me – that is what I am here for, child, it is not only my job to support you in need, but my wish too, you are my son after all. And now stop worrying and drink. It is my place to worry, not yours."

He was sure that Harry would have whispered another "sorry" if he hadn't led the boy's hands with the glass to his mouth, gently dipping the bottom of the glass a bit while at the same time placing one hand behind the boy's head to steady him, to give him a sense of safety while drinking.

Well, it came later, the "sorry" after the coughing fit, of course.

Of course the child would choke on the juice upon being scared and unsure, upon being weak and surely in pain too meanwhile and quickly he placed the glass at the nightstand. Surely he couldn't pat the boy's back, but he at least could prop him up and steady him.

"Easy, child." He softly said while he pulled his son closer until he leaned with his chest against him and carefully he ran his free hand over the boy's neck and shoulder, trying to give at least comfort until the fit was over. "Try to breathe slower … slower, Harry … that's it … well done, son …"

"'m sorry …" The boy murmured, nearly sobbed, and yes, of course there had been another apology.

And he knew that he wouldn't hear anything else from the child for some time, for a time much too long for his liking, but he would deal with it, he would deal with it like he had dealt with anything else and he would get Harry back to where they had been before this needless and cruel beating. He knew that it would take him a long time, but he would manage.

"It vos a long day?" Victor had asked during dinner when he had run his hand over his face for a moment and he had leaned back in his chair, nodding at the boy.

"Yes." He had answered. "And they seem to get longer."

But he would manage.

break ... ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ... line

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued<strong>

**Next time in A few days more**

__________________How to deal with what has been done to you? How to deal with your child taking two steps back?__________________

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too, thank you …

**House cup: **

At the present time it looks like this:

708 - Gryffindor - Head of House: Catlady

701 - Slytherin - Head of House: evil minded

576 - Ravenclaw - Head of House: Arithmancy Master

340 - Hufflepuff - Head of House: still a free post


	22. and here the inevitable comes

**Title:**

A few days more

Sequel to twenty-one days

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Fourth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

"A few days more" is the sequel to "Twenty-one days" – read and review this first or you wouldn't understand all that happens in this story.

The fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindors have survived their imprisonment in the potions classroom situated in the dungeons. How will they go on in all-day life after their survival? How will they manage to reintegrate into the castle's routine and their classes? How will they be able to go back to life at all? Watch how those who survived fight for their lives and for their peace, for their place in the community at Hogwarts.

**Disclaimer: **

Did you see Severus alive at the end of _'The deathly hallows'_? no?

Do you think I would have had him died if I had written those books? no?

Then you know that _'Harry Potter'_ does not belong to me … nor does Severus … regrettably … he belongs to J. K. Rowling …

But Hereweald Hrothgar does …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

Alright – I'm back with this one, as you can see, and I apologize for all of you who'd like to read more on "little robe". I won't say much now except of – thanks for your patience, thanks for all of your reviews on this story even though I won't be able reviewing to all of them and thanks for – just reading …

**Warning:**

Story contains references to child abuse.

Child-abuse is a really serious thing, it is an evil thing and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help without being helped, and closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist, is no solution …

I only say - remind yourself of your feelings, of your sympathy, and of your understanding … and handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once being abused … with understanding and with help …

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me - I am …

* * *

><p>break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line<p>

**Previously in A few days more**

_"Easy, child." He softly said, gently, reaching out to run his hand through Harry's hair. A moment later he leaned over to place his hand on the boy's neck instead, the only spot he right now could be sure wouldn't hurt upon touch and where he could keep the boy from turning. "Stay on your stomach … no, don't turn … you'll hurt yourself … that's it, child, just stay on your stomach. _

_"'m sorry, sir." Was – how could it be otherwise – again the only thing the boy murmured after he had calmed down enough to recognize his surroundings and the person who was with him. _

_"There is no reason to be, Harry." He gently said, his hand still on his son's neck while his thumb ran over the soft skin traitorously. "There is no reason to be ashamed either, Harry." He then added, shifting a bit so that he could look into the pale face more easily, noticing the red spots on the nearly white face. "It is Creighton who should be ashamed, Harry. And his name isn't even Creighton. His name was Falk Fenrir, son of Finn Fenrir, Grayback, a werewolf in the Death Eater's ranks. He has been arrested and he won't teach any child ever again. He will end up in Azkaban and you won't see him ever again."_

_"'m sorry."_

_Of course the child would say that. _

_And he knew that he wouldn't hear anything else from the child for some time, for a time much too long for his liking, but he would deal with it, he would deal with it like he had dealt with anything else and he would get Harry back to where they had been before this needless and cruel beating. He knew that it would take him a long time, but e would manage. _

**A few days more**

**Chapter twenty-two **

**Day twenty-two – thirteenth of October – Sunday**

**And here the inevitable comes**

Quickly he stepped aside the moment he saw Snape hurrying through the corridor, even though he knew that the Potions Master would never hurt him, but the man's face was – he'd never before seen the man's face so dark and worried, and he knew, his former head of house was short from exploding. And he better was far away and more importantly, out of the way, the moment this happened. He'd seen the Potions Master exploding before, while having a less dark face than he was wearing right now.

Looking after the man after he'd passed him he took a deep breath and then turned, hurried towards the Slytherin common room. It wasn't curfew yet, but he better was where he belonged to tonight, because the man's face didn't bode well, absolutely not, and if he had learned _any_thing about his former head of house, then it was that Severus Snape exploded seldom – but if he did, then it was a near catastrophe and everything – as well as everyone – near him got affected.

Said man, Severus Snape, had a clear destiny, namely the potions classroom. But not the new potions classroom where they were holding lessons now, since two weeks. No, he was heading for the old potions classroom, knowing that he would find one of his children in there, his son, to be exact, Harry.

The boy had fled the table this morning after he'd told the children that several classes would be cancelled and held by _him_ instead, like history and defence so that they wouldn't have to deal with teachers who would either rightout abuse them, or teachers they were uncomfortable with, and in the first moment he had been worried to no end while searching the dungeons. The boy was anything than healthy, the fever having been risen again during the night, and of course, it was no wonder that it had risen again, seeing the new injuries.

He'd taken a deep breath after he'd had Fenrir paying, and then he'd tried to control himself as good as possible before he'd been back with Harry, trying to control his anger which still had burned deeply so that he wouldn't startle and scare the child, his son.

His son.

Merlin, and his son had been suffering so much already, and now this. Again the boy had been subjected to brutal cruelty because of the hate of one person towards a parent of him.

Opening the door to the old potions classroom he didn't even stop to have a look around but immediately went through the room and towards the door that led to his office, the place where he had found the boy sitting on the floor more than once during their twenty-one days, and he heaved a sigh of relief the moment he stepped through the door, seeing the boy sitting in the corner of the room – before he silently cursed. This bloody child would give him a heart failure before he was even old enough to stop teaching!

Forcing his emotions behind his mind shields he slowed his steps and slowly walked towards the nearly hysterically sobbing child and crouched down in front of – his son.

The boy had his head buried in his arms, the skinny legs cradled to his chest, and it was impossible to understand the soft murmur he was giving away – and anyway he knew exactly what the child was murmuring over and over again, knew that Harry was apologizing over and over again in the hope that he wouldn't punish him if he just apologized long enough while at the same time the child had long ago learned that – never mind how often he apologized, it would never be enough, he would be punished anyway.

"Harry." He softly said, reaching out to touch the bony shoulder, already knowing the reaction he would receive but he also knew that he simply had to do anything to get the child out of it – and as he had known:

"'m sorry sir, 'm so sorry … won't do it 'gain, promise … please don' be mad at me … please don' send me 'way, 'm sorry, 'm just sorry …" The child mumbled between his shuddering sobs and there was no 'dad', no 'Severus', not even a 'father' – but a sir, again, and Severus felt his heart ache in pain – after all this time, his son still feared he would be sent away if he made a mistake.

Not that the child had made a mistake in the first place, no – Harry had not, but the bow _thought_ he had and he thought he'd be sent away because of it.

"Calm down, child." He said, pulling the boy from the corner and leading him to one of the armchairs he had conjured just a few days ago. He put the child into the soft furniture before he pulled another armchair close and sat down opposite Harry, not once releasing his son's wrist, not once breaking eye contact. "There's no reason to fear anything, Harry, and least punishment from my side as not only there is no reason to as you have done nothing wrong, but also as I would never hand out any punishment that would cause you any kind of harm. What has you startled so, child?"

But well, had he hoped that he would get an answer from the boy, then he definitely had thought wrongly, because there was none – except of …

"I'm sorry, sir … "

"You have done nothing that would require an apology, Harry." He said, trying to sound strict but not harsh – something he had gotten some practice at during the past few weeks. "You have fled the table because you have been clearly startled, even an idiot could have seen this and surely you won't imply that I were an idiot!"

There were large eyes watching him while Harry quickly shook his head – but well, he had achieved what he had wanted to achieve, the boy was out of his panic attack.

"Good." He growled, satisfied while at the same time pulling the child close a bit until his son's forehead rested on his chest. "Because if you had, then I would have been forced to hand out detention, having you spending time with me in our nice, new potions laboratory down in the lower dungeons. And now tell me, Harry, what had you startled so much that you felt the need to flee the table? And our quarters."

"I am trying not to." The boy hiccupped and he wondered what he wanted to say, what was he trying not to? It hadn't been what he had asked for. "Always being so startled, really, but then it's like something gets triggered in my mind that I can't help." The boy hid his head in Severus' robes and he could feel his son's body relaxing. "I'm really sorry … I know … I know that I'm fourteen, but when these things just happen, it makes me feeling like a snivelling first year."

Tightening his hold around the boy he took a deep breath when the child relaxed even more, nearly slipping off his own armchair to sit on his, Severus' lap and he simply pulled the boy over onto his armchair, thinking.

So far he'd been avoiding the subject of counselling, but perhaps Harry would benefit more from it than Severus realized. The boy clearly was scared and startled too often and even though it was clear that the subject about history of magic that had been taught by a madman like Fenrir who had abused the boy, who had beaten the child badly, who had caused new injuries while drawing blood, who had bestowed the same abuse over the child as the one he'd been forced to endure for years at the hands of his relatives, even though it was clear that a subject like this would startle and scare the child, especially as the experience was so fresh on the child's mind, he didn't like it one bit.

So – yes, maybe it really was time to think about such a thing as counselling.

"There is no need to apologize for a reaction like this, Harry." He said, his mind running a mile per minute while trying to find a way so that he would make it clear to the child that he was allowed to be scared. "Don't you think that you have been through enough in your life to show reactions like this? Have you ever ridiculed Theodore because of one or another scared reaction he shows?"

"What – but … no!" The boy immediately gasped, shocked, green eyes wide on him as if he couldn't fathom his question at all.

"So, Theodore is allowed showing fear but you are not, even though you've been through worse than he?" He asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice, knowing that it was this sarcasm that would allow the boy to think about it, to really believe it.

"I … I don't … I don't know …" The child answered, slumping his shoulders and averting his eyes.

"I am sure that you do know the answer very well, Harry." He huffed. "You're just not ready to give it."

"But … but that's different." The child desperately said.

"Is it now?" He asked back, lifting his eyebrow. "Just as it had been different, the others being hungry? As it had been different, the others being tired? As it had been different back then, while we've been locked down here?"

There wasn't an answer, but he hadn't expected one anyway. He knew that Harry knew exactly what he meant. The boy knew him well enough by now, and he knew the boy enough by now too.

"You won't use the crucio in defence, will you, sir?" The boy then asked, startling him with the question and he frowned down at the child, not really understanding.

"The crucio is one of the three unforgivables and so no, of course I won't use it, Harry." He said, not sure what line of thinking the child was clinging to, because if there was one thing he had learned about this particular child, then it was that there was never a question the boy asked without a reason. "I would end up in Azkaban, using it. And even though it were not, then I wouldn't use it anyway. I would never do anything that would harm you, child, any of you. Why do you ask?"

"It's not important." The boy shrugged it off and he scowled down at the little imp.

"Harry!" He growled, demandingly, ignoring the startled look he got for his strict tone. As if the boy didn't know that he was a strict teacher – and parent – by now.

"It's just … well, it's just that professor Moody said that there's only one unforgivable left now as I can throw off the avada and now the imperious too, and when you said that … that you'd overtake defence … see, I just thought that you'd test …"

"You …" He couldn't help gasping at the child's line of thinking, horrified at alone the boy's _thoughts_ while at the other hand he could understand his line of thinking with all the abuse the child had been forced to live with for years. "Run that by me again, Harry, I believe I am missing something." He then added, sharply.

"Well I … I didn't die when uncle Voldie tried the avada on me, back then, when I was little, and now I can break out of the imperious too." The boy softly answered, clearly unsure and scared. "I don't know 'bout the crucio though and I wouldn't want to test that out."

"Who used the imperious curse on you?" Snape growled catching Harry off guard.

"Professor Moody, in class." The boy said and he took a deep breath.

"Moody used an unforgivable on you?" He couldn't help asking, shocked, even though it was hard to shock him at all. "He's been casting unforgivables on students? Why didn't you tell me immediately?" Snape growled out angrily, getting to his feet and pulling the boy with him, holding him at both his upper arms and looking him over, even drawing his wand and casting a diagnostic, not caring the startled flinch when he waved his wand at the boy.

"I … I'm sorry … I …"

"I know." He growled. "Calm down, I won't hurt you. I've just cast a diagnostic. Merlin! Child! Do you not realize that Moody has done a crime that will see him in Azkaban? These spells are banned and declared as unforgivables and with a reason so, Harry, and he could have seriously hurt you! And none of these imbeciles have told me!"

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

It was not even an hour later that he burst into Albus' office, not even minding with knocking at the old man's door.

He had brought Harry back to their quarters and he had made sure that the boy had lain down at one of the sofas. He then had them all starting a game, making sure that the boy was well cared for and distracted before he left them with the promise that he'd be back an hour later.

**Flashback**

_"Care to explain to me as to why no one has told me about Moody using unforgivables on students during defence lessons?" He growled while entering their quarters, not even bothering with any kind of explanation. "And don't question my intelligence – nor yours."_

_There was silence for several moments and he already took a deep breath to give those bloody imbeciles a piece of his mind – especially when it came to his disappointment – when Neville, Neville of all people, stood from the chair he'd been sitting at. _

_"I'm sorry, sir." The boy softly said but looking at him and alone this fact calmed him immensely. _

_Neville was one of those students that had feared him until this school year – had feared him to a point where he'd been trembling upon his approach alone – and that he now dared not only standing in front of him despite his clear anger but looking at him also instead of averting his eyes, it meant a lot to him. Even though the boy used a 'sir' instead of 'Severus' as he would do under different circumstances and he started seeing a pattern with not only Harry but several other children too. _

_"It was me who suggested that we not tell you about Professor Moody." The boy said after having taken a deep breath. "You've had so much on your hands, with Harry and with our lessons, and with keeping us alive and getting us back to health, and I'm sure that this wasn't easy. And now what happened with Professor Creighton and Harry … it's not that we didn't trust you, I just … Professor Moody was one thing we could deal with on our own, Harry needed you more than we did, and before you'd end up … well, we've just had to set priorities, sir, and that we did."_

_"Are you implying that you feared I might – suffer from a breakdown, boy?" He asked, growled, glaring at the idiot child in front of him while at the same time tightening the grip he had on Harry's upper arm the moment his son flinched away at his sharp use of the word 'boy'. _

_"No, professor." Ronald stood too, taking a step towards him and Neville. "We just know that you're human too, like we, and that you are not indestructible. We've had to make a decision and we've made the one that was the most logical to us, namely to give you some space to care for Harry."_

_"So you didn't think that this would be important?" He asked after having taken a deep breath to calm his anger at those bloody imbeciles that had been Minerva's students once, wondering if the woman had never taught them that they could rely on a caring head of house. "So you didn't think that I would like to know about such a thing as a teacher on this school hurting not only my son but my students generally?"_

_"We did, sir." Cameron said, coming over too and he lifted his eyebrow in curiosity. "And we would have informed you – but not while we didn't know if Harry would survive and not while we didn't know how bad he was hurt and how much he needed you at that precise moment. You have come in, carrying Harry in your arms, sir, wrapped in your cloak and there was blood everywhere – on your shirt, on your hands, on Harry. What do you think we have thought? In our opinion that was more important than Moody."_

_And it was. _

_He knew that the children were correct of course, that they had not thought he were weak, that they had not handled on their own because of disrespect or because of distrust. No, they had just seen him coming in, carrying Harry who'd been bleeding, who'd been injured, and he knew that they might have been scared enough to not thinking about Moody or how important it was to inform him about this too yet._

_"My apology." He said after taking a deep breath. "You are correct of course and I apologize for not only neglicting to provide you with more reassurances on Friday, but also for acting out my anger on you today. That was not only unjust but uncalled for too. Please allow me an hour so that I can visit the headmaster, I will be back as soon as possible and then we will talk. And do not worry, I won't punish you, we will just talk. Please make sure that all of you are occupied with a game. Lay on the sofa for playing, Harry, you need rest."_

**End flashback **

"Severus?" Albus asked, calmly, despite his forceful entrance, motioning for him to take one of the seats across the desk. He did not sit however – he never did when he was angry, needing this freedom then to move.

"Don't try that on me Albus." He growled at the old man. "You know fully well why I have come up here to speak to you. You aren't a fool, so don't act like one." Really! He liked Albus, one of the few people he actually did like – and a lot so – but sometimes he'd also like to wring that old man's neck.

"I have already agreed, on you teaching your house alone, Severus." Albus answered, frowning at him and he took another deep breath to calm his anger. Could it really be that Albus didn't know about Moody using unforgivables at his school? There was barely anything happening within this school that man didn't know.

"Well, I fear that – never mind my teaching of my house – you will need to hire a new defence teacher anyway, Albus." He huffed at the man. Really! Sometimes Albus grated more on his nerves than even the first year Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors together.

"I know that Alastor and you are not getting along, Severus, but with having Igor Karkaroff at Hogwarts for this year, I really need an auror here, even though he's just an ex-auror, because I can't call one to school officially or I would have several wizards from the international department of …"

"I suggest you do just that, and call an auror officially to arrest Moody, Albus, because he's used unforgivables on students." He growled back at the headmaster.

"He … Severus?" Albus asked, looking at him unsurely and for the first time since he knew that man he could see that Albus too, never mind how great of a wizard he was, was human only.

"Moody has used the imperious on Harry." He growled, darkly but calmer than he'd been before. "And if I got this correct, then not only had he attacked all of them with several spells despite Poppy telling him in clear terms that no magic is to be used on the children until further notice, but he also had them standing in corners, in clear Death Eater manner – and you know what that means, Albus, and not only for ten minutes but for an entire double lesson. He also has threatened to use the crucio on Harry too – apparently wanting to test the child about his resilience concerning all three unforgivables seeing that he's survived the avada and apparently can throw off the imperious."

"These are serious accusation, Severus." Albus said and he scowled at the older wizard.

"I have seen enough in Cameron's mind, even though I have not used legillimence consciously." He huffed at the headmaster. "The boy's mind has been as open as a book and he's allowed me in without any fuss."

"I will talk with Minerva and then we will question Alastor together." Albus said and he lifted his eyebrow at the man. He hadn't thought that the old man would give in so soon. "I ask you however to not interfere before I can be sure that your accusations are true."

"As if he would admit to what he's done." He huffed at the headmaster.

"Do you really think that I have no means to learn of the truth, Severus?" Albus asked and he sighed, knowing that the older wizard was correct of course. Albus _did_ have more means than he, Severus, was aware of. He was sure of that.

"What will you do the moment you learn of my accusations being true?" He asked, his eyes narrowed at the headmaster.

"I won't promise you to call for the aurors, that depends on Alastor's answers and his motives." Albus said and he took a deep breath to calm his newly growing anger. He should have known that Albus wouldn't do anything against Alastor. "Alastor is a very old friend of most of the order members and he's done great things for the order during the past war against Tom. I cannot forget that, Severus, but he will of course leave the school if what you say is correct."

"Then you can look for a new defence teacher already, because what I say _is _correct." He growled angrily. "I hope you will question that man as soon as possible, preferably right now."

"I would like to." The headmaster said and he knew – it wouldn't be today, nor tomorrow. "Tonight the goblet will choose the champions, Severus, and I would like having this out of the way and done before I take any other matters in hands. And there is another thing I need to talk to you about, Severus, Sirius has asked to visit Harry."

"Absolutely no, Albus." He growled at the man.

"Severus, please …"

"Last time that idiot has met with my son it took me hours to calm the child after he's not only threatened to take him away from me but also has abducted him and pointed his wand at me, his father, with the threat of attack." He growled, leaning with his hands on the tabletop. "And now you expect me allowing this man close to my son anytime soon again? Surely not!"

"Severus …"

"No, Albus, and this is final!"

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"No!" He growled, wondering why in Merlin's name he had to use this particular word as often as he had today – first Albus, and now his son.

"Please, I'll be …"

"Don't tell me that you'll be alright, Harry, because you won't – I can see it in your face that you'd rather stay here than going to the great hall and actually I can understand your wish."

"But that's not fair to the others!" The boy insisted and he took a deep breath while watching his son. He could see that the child was pulling up all his bravery and strength to argue with him, the small form trembling with fear and the thin arms were halfway raised in preparation to go up and in front of his face for protection.

"I do realize that you might feel that way, but they have agreed to stay here with you without the slightest fuss – as none of them would be chosen anyway, seeing that none of them is of age yet – and so there's no need for you to make a fuss over this either."

"But they're just … it's just not fair and … don't you see, dad?" The boy said, desperately, and he could feel his 'no' crumbling at the bloody word the boy used. He knew why this damn word, dad, was the worst word anyone could have come up with in any human language! There was a reason as to why he disliked this particular word as much as he did! "It's not fair that they have to do without one thing or another and always because of me! I'm sure that they'd like to go and watch and now they cannot because of me! Always because of me and … dad! I hate it! I …"

"Alright." He said, sighing heavily. "Alright. But under several conditions only. One is that we will leave the great hall without any fuss the moment I say so, the second is that you won't get excited. I expect you to stay calm through out the ceremony, never mind who's chosen on the Hogwarts side. And the third is that you wear warm clothes and take a pain reliever as well as a calming potion beforehand."

"Ok." The boy immediately said, obediently, and he sighed. So much to the boy finally going against him. It had not been for his own sake but for the sake of the others that he had pleaded with him about the ceremony and the moment he had acted – not unfair – the boy was back to doing whatever he expected of him and without a word of contradiction.

Taking the announced potions from the small cabinet he had in the corner of the dining area, he placed two vials at the table and again, Harry took them without fuss, without even grimacing at the taste. Well, it was half an hour until the ceremony started, enough time for the potions to not only taking hold, but for the child to calm down and get at ease too.

He would have the boy wearing a cardigan over his hoodie, even though it was not cold inside the castle.

Harry _had_ gained weight during the past two weeks – but considering the skeletal look the child had presented at the end of their imprisonment, it was not too hard and honestly, he was nowhere near satisfied with the child's weight – or health – generally, as he was still a skeleton.

But very well – so they would go and watch the ceremony.

Nothing he was too happy about. Neither about the competition itself, nor about them partaking in the ceremony of the choosing, but well, he couldn't change it. The only thing he could do was making sure that the students would visit classes and learn, competition or not.

He'd had the Durmstrang boys in potions twice now, even though Karkaroff had them not partaking in potions at their own school. The girls from Beauxbatons got their lessons by Madam Maxime only, but of course Karkaroff would be too – _lazy_ – to teach his students himself, they were partaking in Hogwarts lessons.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

He hadn't been looking forwards to the ceremony in the great hall – and neither was he really happy about being here _now_.

Not only that he couldn't help feeling scared – even though he hated himself for being such a coward – but also … he was tiered. He was tired and his back – well, didn't _hurt_, seeing that his dad had given him the pain reliever, but it felt – it felt strange, it felt simply _feeling_ and it was anything than a _pleasant_ feeling. So, he would prefer staying in the safety and in the calmness of their quarters.

He didn't need his _room_, he knew _that_, but in their private common room down in the dungeons, together with the others, he would prefer being _there_ instead of sitting here in the great hall.

There were too many people here for his liking, very much too many people.

All the house tables were filled to the brim with not only the Hogwarts students but their guest students too, and all the teachers were present, including Madam Maxime and Professor Karkaroff. It was like at the welcoming feast each year, just a bit more crowded than _that_ even, and then there were the people from the ministry. Fudge and one of his people, Crouch, and Bagman, a guy that was organizing sport things, a former Quidditch player if he'd gotten that correct.

However, never mind what, his father liked none of them.

"Fleur Delacour." The headmaster called out and with a huff he watched one of the girls to – _glide_ towards Professor Dumbledore, because surely that girl was not walking. Well, yes – of course it did, walking, but it looked like gliding and so very girlish, he rolled his eyes before turning back to their table.

"Do not underestimate those girls, Harry." Severus said and he looked up at the man. "Madam Maxime is a very powerful headmistress and she demands anything of her students, those girls, even though looking as if made of sugar, they will be able rivalling the Durmstrang students even with their magic and power."

"That maay be, Professor." Victor said and he smiled. "Buut they lack our strength aand our endurance. As vell as our braveery."

"I agree with you on that." Severus nodded at the other student from Durmstrang and he smiled again. He liked Victor, even though Karkaroff was using that boy as a flagship student, seeing that he was a seeker on the Bulgarian Quidditch team who'd played on the world cup this past summer.

This past summer, it was strange, this wording, this past summer, a wording that made him sad, because this past summer was just that, it was past, it was gone – and somehow he wondered if he would survive until the next one, it made everything so finally.

It wasn't that he was depressive. No – he was just realistic.

And he'd heard what that healer – he'd forgotten his name – had told his father about him, back on Saturday last week, at the end of this checkup namely _should _he survive …

"Cederic Diggory." Came the headmaster's next announcement, and he jumped at the hall that exploded with applause and yelling students while a happy Cederic stood and went over to Professor Dumbledore.

He could see his dad taking a deep breath of relief beside him and he knew, his father had feared that one of the Slytherins would be chosen by that goblet. He still wondered how the goblet did chose the students in the first place, if it just chose randomly a name from all the ones that had been thrown in last week, or if it actually knew who'd have a chance and then chose the one from each school that had the best chances.

"A Hufflepuff?" Ron asked, startled, looking questioningly at the others, but he just shrugged his shoulders.

"Why not a Hufflepuff?" Severus asked, lifting his eyebrow at Ron.

"'Cause they … they …"

"They're what, Ronald?" Severus asked, nearly sounding angry, at least sounding very strict. "Just because they have as big a heart as Harry here has doesn't mean that they are weak. You are starting anew with prejudices, Ronald, a dangerous thing, and I ask you to not doing this. Hermione is intelligent even though she's been sorted in Gryffindor and not in Ravenclaw. Harry has a big heart even though he's sorted in Gryffindor and not in Hufflepuff. Draco is daring and always ready for a good fight, even though he's been sorted in Slytherin and not in Gryffindor. Neville too could have been a Hufflepuff just as much as he's a Gryffindor. Do not judge people by what you can see, Ronald, but give them a chance to prove themselves."

"Sorry, sir." Came Ron's voice just the moment the headmaster called out "Victor Krum."

For a moment their table was silent and Victor looked at Severus who looked back at the other boy and then inclined his head.

"Good luck, boy." His father then said. "You better get up there and into the chamber behind the great hall."

A few moments later the hall was calm again and the headmaster turned towards all the students, while he silently agreed on his father's whispered words – "I had rather not Victor chosen by that bloody goblet but a different Durmstrang student", because he liked the other boy, as did Theo and Draco – and Hermione.

"Great desires will be fulfilled, great glory will be the prize for the one winning the competition, great honour for the last champion and a prize of one thousand galleons." The headmaster said. "Three students have now the chance to compete in friendship, to show …"

And there the headmaster stopped and looking over he could see that the man was watching the goblet of fire with a strange expression on his face while the goblet itself had started glowing again, and looking up at Severus, questioningly, he could see that the Potions Master had gotten off his seat, was standing, was watching the goblet with some kind of horror on his face – a fact that got him even more scared than he already was because the Potions Master did fear nothing.

A moment later –

"Harry Snape."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

The air in his lungs seemed to disappear altogether and left Harry feeling faint.

That was impossible.

He hadn't …

But then again –

_"Harry Snape!"_ More demanding, commanding, this time and he could hear that Professor Dumbledore was angry, and with barely being able to take another breath he looked up at his father for a second time, unable to fathom what had just happened, while the Potions Master looked truly shocked and horrified, his face a pale mask, but he knew the man well enough meanwhile to know that this mask was – a mask, and nothing else, not a real expression that gave away what was beneath, what the man felt.

He was barely aware that he too stood up, shaking, and he was just about to follow the order and to go over to the headmaster when Severus reached out and put his hand on his shoulder, a hand that he had learned to appreciate even though he was scared enough to flinch away in the first moment. But then the hand steadied him, guided him through the hall and towards the headmaster who stood there, waiting, angrily, and he was glad that he didn't have to go up to the headmaster alone.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Severus felt numb at the "Harry Snape" that came from Albus, the older wizard's voice ringing through the great hall and for a moment he froze. He had seen the goblet flaring a fourth time and he had stood, had gotten up from the bench where he'd been sitting beside Harry, narrowing his eyes, but never would he have thought that – Merlin! The boy that was right now trying to hide between Theodore and Draco was fourteen, for Merlin's sake! And this was too dangerous! How should he keep that boy out of harm's ways with such a task lingering over his head! People had died in that bloody competition and Harry was nowhere near healthy enough to partake in such a bloody thing to begin with!

_"Harry Snape!"_ Albus' voice called out a second time and – wondering what the idiot child was doing – he watched the boy getting off the bench, unsurely, clearly scared out of his wits, and he immediately knew that he had not put his name into the goblet. Well, of course he knew that, because Harry had been with him all week-long! And Harry would never do such a foolish thing!

Where he would have accused the boy of just that, just a few weeks ago, there he knew now that no, that was not Harry's ways, nor his wishes.

His mind started running a mile per minute when he watched his son slowly getting off the bench, scared, looking up at him, in a daze, not knowing what was happening to him, scared, unsure and frightened, stopping for a moment, looking up at him as if asking for help, as if asking for his comfort, as if …

Placing his hand on the boy's shoulder and accompanying him over to the headmaster, unable to let the boy taking these steps alone, he wondered who in Merlin's name might have put his son's name into the goblet, and why, and how he could get the child off the competition, knowing that he would stand no chance of surviving this bloody tournament – or how he could help him staying alive.

Merlin! What was he thinking? He'd never allow the boy to partake to begin with!

He watched Harry's thin fingers taking the parchment when Albus thrust it at the boy angrily and he glowered back at the man just as angrily.

"That was uncalled for, Albus." He softly hissed.

"Have you put your name into the goblet?" The headmaster asked, ignoring him and he watched the boy shaking his head, unable to give a verbal answer.

"Have you asked an older student to put your name into the goblet?" Albus asked and he growled, just the moment when the boy shook his head again.

"Of course he has not!" He said, tightening his hold on Harry when the boy flinched. "I suggest we discuss this later. I would like to get the boy home and to bed."

"Severus." Albus said and he narrowed his eyes at the headmaster – surely that man wouldn't … "The goblet has chosen Harry."

"And I will not have him in this competition." He said, reassuringly squeezing the boy's shoulder.

"This is a magical binding contract that has taken place, Severus, and not even I or you can go against this." Albus said.

"And even if it were a magical contract with Merlin himself, Harry is underage and not only are underage students banned from this competition, but also am I his father and therefore clearly forbid his participation." He growled, turning and guiding Harry towards their table when he met an unseen barrier – and he knew, he couldn't go back with the boy, not before they had entered the chamber behind the great hall, the chamber where the other participants were waiting.

"Why you?" He softly asked while looking down, taking a deep breath. "Why always you? Why don't you get a little bit of peace finally?" Of course the boy that looked up at him, unsurely, scared, didn't have an answer to his question but he hadn't expected an answer anyway – it had been a rhetorical question anyway. "Alright." He then sighed. "Then let's go into this chamber, but do not worry, child, I won't allow you to actually participate."

"'m scared." He heard the boy softly murmuring just when they reached the door to the chamber and he ran his free hand through the boy's hair that had grown as long as was his own hair.

"I know." He softly answered back. "But do not worry. You won't participate. We will find a way, Harry, like we always did."

"But what if not?" The boy asked and he could hear that he was short from actually crying in front of the other three students present in the chamber, and he got down on one knee in front of the child, not minding Diggory, not minding Krum and surely not minding Delacour.

"Be under no misconception that I won't have you going through this alive, Harry." He said, his voice as severe as possible, as severe as it had been back then, in the potions classroom. "Morality be dammed, Harry, I do not care about that, because I will get you through this competition alive, considering the fact that you neither are of age yet, nor have petitioned freely. We will figure something out, we always did, and you will survive this, do you hear?"

"What is theeze?" Maxime asked, coming towards them and he quickly stood, pulling the boy behind him before that bloody woman could startle the boy more than he already was.

"Had I known the unfair conditions your school is working with, then I would have not come." Karkaroff growled and he huffed at the idiot. "Two champions for Hogwarts?"

"What has this child done!" Maxime shouted.

"This child has done nothing, you bloody, imbecilic woman!" He hissed back, his rage finding new heights while he was ready to draw his wand, keeping a safe hold at his son.

"Then 'ow 'as 'is name come into this goblet, Snape?" Maxim growled at him and he glowered at the headmistress, not impressed, neither by her size nor by her growling.

"That is a question which I would like having answered just as well, Maxime." He growled back. "But be assured, I won't have that boy in this competition, seeing that he isn't even of age yet."

"He will have to partake." Albus said, softly and he looked over at the headmaster who stood beside Fudge, Crouch and Bagman.

"I knew that there was one thing or another going to go wrong sooner or later and Harry would find himself in danger again, as seems to happen every year – but this, this is ridiculous!" He said. "That boy has neither partaken freely, nor is he of age yet, Albus – he cannot partake, it would be cheating and surely the magically binding tract does recognize this little fact."

"I agree with Severus." Karkaroff said and he glowered at the idiot headmaster for a second. Of course Karkaroff would agree with him.

"The boy's chosen he's to partake." Bagman said, a strange glint in his eyes and he narrowed his own eyes at the man, knowing that the idiot would place one or another bet on the boy.

"Say you." He growled. "You can keep your money in your pockets, because I won't allow it!"

"Not even you can go against a magical contract, Snape." Fudge said.

"Barty?" Albus asked and he looked at the man.

He knew Crouch, an arrogant ministry official who'd been famous and who'd been admired for aggressively arresting Dark Wizards, even allowing his aurors the use of the unforgivables and imprisoning people – like Black – without a trial even. He'd fallen from grace however around 1982 after he'd sentenced his own son to Azkaban for being a Death Eater who'd taken part in the torture of the Longbottoms, of Neville's parents, the reason as to why that boy was living with his grandmother. He'd been then moved out of the public eye and to the department of international magical cooperation – where he had now organized this bloody tournament.

However – Crouch had changed again, since he'd last seen him shortly before the Quidditch World Cup, when they'd been meeting, the headmasters, the heads of houses, the minister and Crouch – and Bagman, the imbecile. The man had become worried, bent and – as if being loaded with a heavy weight.

Nevertheless Crouch's intelligence couldn't be challenged by anyone, he knew that.

"There is one possibility." Crouch said and he straightened, tightening the grip he had on Harry's shoulder. "If Mr. Potter – Snape – is able to leave this chamber right now, then he is out of the competition, if he cannot before being given closer information about the first task, then he has to partake."

"Very well." He said, leading the boy towards the door. He would make sure that – he would keep the boy out of – he would …

A moment later there was another unseen barrier and closing his eyes he knew that never mind his wishes, he had lost, Harry would have to partake – because yes, not even he could go against a magically binding contract. The child, his son, as weak as he was, as newly injured as he was, as young as he was, the child had to partake in a deathly game even though it was not by his free will.

Would he be a bit more optimistic, then he'd think that maybe the boy would be able to retreat from the several tasks the moment they were to start, but he was not an optimistic man, he was a pessimist, and always had been. That had been what had kept him alive for years and years back then during the last wizarding war, his pessimism, always expecting the worst, always preparing for the worst. But how was he to keep a child alive in all of this?

"Merlin, child, you will have me in my grave before I see a single grey hair even!" He sighed, pulling his son close and folding his arms around the small and shaking form – while at the same time Harry ducked his head in shame – or worry, he didn't know. Gently he lifted the boy's chin so that he had to look at him.

"Do not do that Harry." He calmly said. "This is not your fault and I do not blame you. I know you and I know you'd never do something like this, especially as you hate attention so much. Do not punish yourself for something you had no hand in."

"Thanks, dad." The boy whispered and he squeezed the child's shoulder, knowing that the child was thanking him for believing him.

The room slowly emptied with congratulations to the other three participants, Maxime and her student leaving for their carriage that stood between Hagrid's hut and the lake, the woman being anything than happy, Karkaroff taking Victor to his ship, clearly angry and upset, and Diggory being led out and most likely to the great hall by Pomona to partake in the feast.

"One thing I will put straight from the beginning, Albus." He growled at the headmaster, not even minding Crouch, Bagman and the minister hearing his words. "Never mind any morality, I will see my son through that tournament alive and I do not care how often I will have to cheat for that, because I do not see any morality in a fourteen year old and ill child being chosen by that goblet just because someone else has put his name in. Harry has been through enough and I will make sure that he won't be harmed any more than he already is." And then he turned and led his son out of the chamber too, led him back to their table and from there – picking up the others – to their common room, knowing that the boy surely would not wish to partake in the festivities that took place in the great hall.

He knew that he would have all hands full with keeping the child healthy, calm and able to sleep and eat regularly during the coming months, because if he had learned one thing about his son so far, then it was that stress was always making an impact on his sleeping patterns, on his eating habits and on his nerves generally.

But he would manage, like he always had managed.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued<strong>

**Next time in A few days more**

__________________What more could happen to a child and how are you to keep a child safe and sane throughout a difficult year?__________________

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too, thank you …

**House cup: **

At the present time it looks like this:

721 - Gryffindor - Head of House: Catlady

711 - Slytherin - Head of House: evil minded

604 - Ravenclaw - Head of House: Arithmancy Master

345 - Hufflepuff - Head of House: Lovelesslife, on probation


	23. the meeting in the forest

**Title:**

A few days more

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Fourth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

"A few days more" is the sequel to "Twenty-one days" – read and review this first or you wouldn't understand all that happens in this story.

The fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindor have survived their imprisonment in the potions classroom situated in the dungeons. How will they go on in all-day life after their survival? How will they manage to reintegrate into the castle's routine and their classes? How will they be able to go back to life at all? Watch how those who survived fight for their lives and for their peace.

**Disclaimer: **

Did you see Severus alive at the end of 'The deathly hallows'? no?

Do you think I would have had him died if I had written those books? no?

Then you know that 'Harry Potter' does not belong to me … nor does Severus … regrettably …

But Hereweald Hrothgar does …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Warning:**

Story will contain references to child abuse.

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help … there are too much humans in our world who are or had been mistreated.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be …^.~ … believe me - I am …

* * *

><p>break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line<p>

**Previously in A few days more**

_"One thing I will put straight from the beginning, Albus." He growled at the headmaster, not even minding Crouch, Bagman and the minister hearing his words. "Never mind any morality, I will see my son through that tournament alive and I do not care how often I will have to cheat for that, because I do not see any morality in a fourteen year old and ill child being chosen by that goblet just because someone else has put his name in. Harry has been through enough and I will make sure that he won't be harmed any more than he already is." And then he turned and led his son out of the chamber too, led him back to their table and from there – picking up the others – to their common room, knowing that the boy surely would not wish to partake in the feast that took place in the great hall. _

_He knew that he would have all hands full with keeping the child healthy, calm and able to sleep and eat regularly during the coming months, because if he had learned one thing about his son so far, then it was that stress was always making an impact on his sleeping patterns, on his eating habits and on his nerves generally. _

**A few days more**

**Chapter twenty-three **

**Day twenty-three – fourteenth of October – Monday**

**The meeting in the forest**

"Dad?" Harry asked and he frowned at the tired voice coming from the child.

"Hmm?" He asked back, trying to sound not worried but – casually.

"Why do we have to eat in the great hall if we're having classes at home?" The boy asked, unsurely, but at least he had not said – "our quarters" but "at home" – and that was something he took as a good sign, because that meant that the child felt at home there, that he was happy there, and that he felt safe there. "We'll have our lessons at home, won't we? You've said we would."

Yes, he should have known that the boy would be scared about that, that he would fear about his lessons after the encounter with Fenrir just a few days ago.

"Yes, you will have your lessons at home, Harry." He calmly said, leaning back at the backrest of the bench the castle had created in the great hall and taking a sip of his second cup of coffee this morning. "I do however not plan on cutting you off the student body of this school. You are the fifth house of Hogwarts, Harry, you are part of this school, and never mind where you will have your lessons, you cannot hide away completely. I deem it important that you have your meals here in the great hall together with the other houses and together with the other students."

"Ok." The boy answered, but it was clear that he only gave the answer he, Severus, wanted to hear, not the answer he truly meant – or felt.

"The first lesson will be potions?" Draco asked and he inclined his head.

"And transfiguration after that." He affirmed.

"Will you teach transfiguration, Severus?" Neville asked and again he inclined his head.

"For the time being, yes." He answered. "Maybe one day Minerva will come down to teach you too, but for the time being it will be me."

There was silence for some time, the children minding their breakfast – scrambled eggs with toast, hot milk with honey and orange juice – and he enjoyed the freedom at their table while watching the children.

As he had predicted, Harry and Adrian, Neville and Miles, and Draco and Theodore had become a sextet while Vincent and Gregory had become an independent duo, something he was very happy for as those two now had to use their brains instead of relying on Draco only the way they had done in the past.

Hermione and Emma had – together with Tracy and Parvati – become a quartet while the remaining girls had become another quartet consisting in Daphne, Lavender. Millicent and Pansy. Blaise and Cameron were both independent singles who were both able partaking in this group or that group, depending on their activities.

The remaining three students, Dean and Seamus as well as Ronald were starting to form a trio.

He was sure that it wasn't easy for them, neither for Ronald having to settle into a new group after he'd been able to rely on both, Hermione and Harry for three years now, seeing that neither Dean nor Seamus were ready to do the other boy's work, nor for the other two as they still seemed somewhat reluctant to trust their housemate after Ronald had attacked his best friend a few weeks ago and had caused severe harm.

But he'd had a serious word with Cameron a few days ago, telling him his worries and asking the older boy to – act as some kind of bridge between the duo and the single, and Cameron had every now and then pulled Ronald into the group with the other two so that they were once in a while forming a quartet and it had worked.

Dean and Seamus had gotten used to Ronald being in their group and Ronald had stayed even though Cameron was back to partaking in other groups' activities as well.

"How do you get the big blue stone eater into the fridge?" Harry asked, after a while, and he lifted his eyebrow.

He was glad that still the boy was coming up with such nonsense, because as long as he did – well, he knew that the boy was at least somewhat alright. But into the fridge?

"Why would you put the big blue stone eater into the fridge?" Adrian asked, looking up at Harry questioningly.

"Can it be eaten?" Miles asked, looking up at Neville questioningly.

"Surely not." Draco snorted. "It's been eating so many stones, it's surely hard and heavy, as if being stone itself."

"Just tell us, Harry." He growled, shaking his head.

"But that's so easy." The boy sighed, shaking his head himself and nearly looking disappointing. "You open the door to the fridge, put the big blue stone eater in, and then you close the door."

"I should have known this." He sighed with a suffering sigh.

"Vhat iis the big blue stone eater?" Victor asked and he inwardly groaned, knowing that surely soon all the stone eater jokes would make another appearance, if they even remembered all of them, that was.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Potions had been an easy affair, seeing that he'd had them doing theory only instead of having them brewing a potion. He could have had them brewing a potion of course, the wit-sharpening potion as was required by the fourth year syllabus, but he also had the authorization to skip any potion and to throw the syllabus overboard if he deemed it necessary, seeing that as the recent Potions Master he had to regard their health before their teaching. He wasn't a simple potions teacher after all.

He hadn't even taken them to their potions classroom, but he'd kept them in their quarters, in their large living room, Harry laying on the sofa, when he'd done the theoretical lesson. They'd had other such lessons too, back then in the beginning of the school year when they'd been locked up in the potions classroom and he knew that most likely they would even learn more if they were allowed to sit in small groups on the armchairs and the sofas instead of the classroom. It had been a discussion worth a potions lesson and even though Harry had fallen asleep at one point or another, he had been satisfied at seeing the calm and peaceful faces around him.

And the same had been with transfiguration. He'd had them just sitting there and discussing the recent subject.

**Flashback**

_"It's like in the beginning, when we had to transfigure pine needles into needles, or small stones into buttons." Gregory said, and he nodded._

_"Exactly, Gregory." He answered. "And after that you learned how to transfigure buttons into plates or leaves into a piece of parchment. And now I will teach you how to transfigure a piece of parchment into a blanket or a small notebook into a pillow."_

_"Professor McGonagall had started the theory on the transfiguration of guinea-fowl into guinea-pigs." Harry's soft voice came from the sofa and he smiled, watching the boy that had just woken, that was looking rather – like a pillow himself. _

_"I know." He said. "As the head of a house I am aware of the syllabus from not only the subject I am teaching, but all the others too. However, I think it more important that you learn transfiguring things you actually need instead of small animals, as well as things transfigured out of other things. Have you slept well, Harry?"_

_"Sorry for that." The boy said instead of giving him an answer to the question he had asked. _

_"I did not ask you to apologize for falling asleep in my lesson." He sighed. "On the contrary – I would have pulled you out of classes for the time being anyway had you been taught by any other teacher than myself. I expect you to rest and to sleep if you feel the need to sleep and I rather asked you if you had slept well. So, did you?"_

_"Uhm – yes, sir." The boy answered and he inclined his head._

_"Very good, so, transfiguration of a leaf into a blanket." He said, getting back to the subject so that the boy couldn't get ideas. "You start with transfiguring your leaf into the parchment – and then the parchment into the blanket – what do you think will your blanket look like?"_

_"Mine surely would look like the leaf itself, just bigger, if even that." Neville said and he frowned at the boy. "When we had to transfigure the cup into a glass, mine always still had a handle."_

_"And what is wrong with a glass that has a handle?" He asked, lifting his eyebrow at his more clumsy student. "Take a tea glass, Neville, they do have handles. Not to mention that, actually – after the first step your blanket has to look like that, a leave still." He explained. "What are you doing the moment you transfigure the leaf into a parchment?"_

_"I wave my wand and say 'herba ad folium." Draco said, shrugging his shoulders._

_"Why would you say that?" He asked the boy._

_"Because it's the incantation for the transfiguration from a leaf into a parchment." Draco answered, not understanding his question, but he was glad that the boy had remembered the incantation he'd learned in his second year._

_"That is correct, but why would you say it?" He asked. _

_"Uhm, because I always need an incantation for using spells?" Draco asked and he leaned back in his armchair._

_"Harry, when you first came to Hogwarts, you haven't been able to really read all the Latin spells in your textbooks, correct?" He asked, watching the boy averting his eyes for a moment before he looked up at him with a sigh._

_"Yes." Came the soft and unsure answer._

_"There's no need to feel bad about that, Harry." He said, just as softly but seriously, leaning forwards to reach a cup of tea with honey over to his son. "I think, we are over this point. Now, what have you done instead of saying the incantation? Because I am sure that often you haven't been able to understand the spoken words correctly."_

_"Well …" The boy said, taking the cup but still looking unsure. "I … I have hoped that something would happen when I waved my wand, so that the others wouldn't laugh at me."_

_"And did something happen?" He asked._

_"No." Harry softly answered, this time really averting his eyes. "Not at first. But then I've learned that I indeed had magic, and then I started to form it, somehow. Don't know how. I just did it."_

_"And you did well." He confirmed. "Because actually, you don't need an incantation – the incantation isn't doing the magic anyway, but it is your power, your will and your wand, even though you don't even need a wand for doing magic, but we will come to that later. You just need your own power and your will to bend your magic so that it does what you want it doing. In other words, the first step to transfigure a leaf into a blanket, would be to transfigure it into a parchment and you simply ask your magic to do it – and so it of course would look like the leaf itself, only larger. At the beginning you just add a second step to it by forming it into a blanket after you have enlarged the leaf. Later and with more practice you combine the two steps to one without needing the step between, but it is alright to have your parchment looking like a leaf in the beginning. After that you just will your magic to form the parchment into the blanket, first by enlarging and thickening it, and later doing both steps in one step."_

**End flashback**

After those two lessons he'd taken them to the great hall for lunch – much to Harry's dislike. The boy would have preferred staying in their quarters but again he had explained that they needed to stay in contact with the other students, that they were still part of the school and couldn't cut themselves off.

However, after lunch he'd had the children resting for an hour and right now they were doing the essay on transfiguration, some in groups, some working alone, just the way they could work best.

He would be satisfied with discussing the subjects only, but the ministry demanded the essays they were to write and even though he could skip one essay or another, especially from those children that were still ill – it only would take him a report and they were excused – but he knew that he couldn't skip all of them anyway.

A sharp knock at their quarters got him out of his thoughts and he frowned, getting off his armchair to answer the door.

He knew that it wasn't Hereweald, because Hereweald would knock more softly and especially more – 'askingly' instead of demandingly. He also knew that it wasn't Albus either, because Albus always addressed him by floo. And Minerva too would use the floo instead of bothering with coming down all those stairs to his dungeon, especially now as it was even deeper down than it had been all the years before.

And except of those three – well, he didn't really expect visitors.

"I demand to see Harry." Black shouted the moment he had opened the door, not even waiting for any kind of greeting – nor an invitation – and shoving past him roughly, entering their quarters without his permission and he growled angrily.

"I ask you to leave, Black, as these are the private quarters from several students." He hissed back, getting into the man's way, wondering where the dog kept his wolf.

"You can't keep me from seeing my own godson, Snape!" Black growled at him, trying to get past him. "You have no say in Harry's life and I will make sure that he is as far away from you as possible before I leave this room."

"Not only is Harry a member of my house, but also is he my son and neither have you any rights, Black, nor have you the slightest chance." He growled back at the idiot man. "And now I suggest you leave the privacy of our quarters."

"Not without my godson!" Black said. "You say you're his father? You're not even able to keep him from doing idiot things like putting his name into the goblet! I would have kept him from …"

"That boy has _not_ put his name into the goblet of fire, Black, and you better don't hurt him any more than you already have by accusing him of such!" He seethed at the idiocy of the mutt, not daring to imagine how Harry might feel at his godfather's accusation, not now at least while he still had to concentrate on the idiot man. Merlin, a few weeks ago he would have dealt with Black much more easily, not so right now – right now he was just too tired for such idiocy.

"Not that I'd say James wouldn't be proud of his son." Black said, causing his annoyance to grow a few notches. "But it was a foolish thing to do and you should have kept the boy from putting in his name …"

"Are you even listening, Black, or are you simply unable understanding human language?" He hissed at the man, close to exploding. "Maybe I should bark it out for you? Harry has not put his name into …"

"He's put his life in danger, Snape!" Black shouted. "Harry is out of your control and if you're unable handling him, then I'll put a stop to this! He's deliberately and blatantly put his life in danger by throwing his name into that goblet and the boy will come with me right now!"

A shattering of what sounded like a glass falling reached their ears and Severus cursed under his breath before he sent a scathing look at Black and turned to the dining table where Harry was doing his essay together with the other five of the sextet, looking startled – and not only at him and black, but at the glass of water that had slipped out of the boy's hand and he waved his wand to discard the shards.

He cast a privacy charm and a protective spell the moment he approached the children, just the moment Black started coming up behind him, but the satisfaction of seeing Black's angry gestures at the inability of entering their private area was short lived the moment he saw Harry's petrified face. Except of Harry all the others were focussing on their essays, not even acknowledging his presence and he huffed at their pitiful attempt, seeing that not even their eyes were moving while – _apparently_ – reading what they had written so far.

"You all can stop pretending to read, I know you heard all of what was said out there." He said, ignoring their slightly guilty looks, especially from Harry. "And you, Harry, stop feeling guilty. It's not your fault that your godfather is behaving like a Bactrian camel. We should have put up a privacy charm or at least made sure to speak quieter."

"Can he really …"

"No, he cannot." He said even before the child had finished his sentence. "Neither can he take you away rightfully, nor can he take you away without permission from the ministry, you are safe here. Remember Diagon, Harry, he will protect you as much as will I – and any other."

"I haven't put my name in there, dad." The boy desperately said. "I'm no out of control and I …"

"Don't even say it, Harry." He said. "Don't even try to reassure me of something that has no need of reassurance. I do know that you are not out of control nor is there need for control in the first place as you are a responsible and very thoughtful child, Harry. Do not listen at your godfather's antics, Harry, please."

Well, at his own use of the word _'please'_ the boy's head shot up, startled.

"Ok, dad." The boy said, even smiling at him and he inclined his head towards the little imbecile.

"Will you be able going on with your essay without my presence for the next few minutes so that I can show your godfather the exit door to our quarters?" He asked, receiving a relieved nod when his son realized that he indeed did not listen to Black's words, that he didn't blame him for anything and that he wouldn't have him gone. Giving the boy's shoulder a squeeze he turned and went back to the mutt who was standing outside their private and protective bubble, raging with fury.

"Know how you get the little blue stone eater into the fridge, dad?" The boy asked and he turned back to the boy for another moment, smiling at the child's ability of not only distraction but also – the child always managed to make him happy, to make him smiling, and to forget his anger, be it with a hug or be it with a silly question.

"I guess opening the door to the fridge, putting the little blue stone eater in and then closing the door would be a bit easy, wouldn't it?" He asked, sure that the answer couldn't be so easy, knowing his son.

"Dad!" The boy whined in a mixture of still being unsure and playing the shocked child – but he still could see the unsureness in all his son's gestures and expressions as if he wanted to ask with his joke – if everything were alright. "You open the door and then you first have to take out the big blue stone eater before putting the little blue stone eater in or there wouldn't be enough space of course! Only then you can close the door again."

"Of course!" He gave a suffering sigh, but he couldn't resist the smile that threatened his facial muscles, especially when the child smiled back at him so openly.

"You bloody bastard …" The man started the moment he finally turned back and left the privacy bubble he'd cast earlier.

"Black, come with me." He calmly growled at the man. Harry had not taken it too badly, the man's forceful entrance and his new threat of abduction – and nothing else it was – but he hadn't taken it too well either.

"Why?" The idiot asked, incredulous, clearly not happy about him, Snape, being unimpressed by his ranting.

"Because I can arrange a date with a Dementor for you …" He turned towards the man sharply, nearly taking him at the front of his shirt.

"You wouldn't dare…"

"Do not tempt me …" He hissed, his face only inches from Black's face. "Maybe that would shut you up, mutt …"

"I'm …"

"You are still an escaped convict and yes, I may keep you away from the child." He growled, taking Black at his shirt over his shoulder and shoving him towards the door. "Not only should you realize that the child needs rest and peace instead of his godfather storming into his private quarters and causing havoc, but also do I need to know your intentions first. Harry does not need people waltzing into his life and then disappearing behind a golden snitch or some skirts."

"You …" Black hissed, trying to turn but he ignored it, shoving black out of the door before closing it and shoving him against the wall in the corridor.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Black?" He then growled out. He'd kept the privacy charm he'd cast when he'd approached the boy up and now he cast another protective charm so that they wouldn't hear them, neither inside nor if one of them by chance left their quarters or passed the dungeons. "Can't you even wait until a silencing charm or a privacy charm is erected before you let your tongue loose?"

"Why would we need a silencing charm?" Black asked back, not grasping the real need for such a charm, of course not as the man was self-centred, only thinking about himself instead of the child. "I have no secrets! Harry's to hear everything I have to say, I _want_ him to hear everything I have to say!"

Severus took a deep breath in order to calm himself and _not_ curse that bloody mutt of a dogfather.

"The silencing charm is _not_ to keep Harry from hearing what I have no doubt will be idiocy upon idiocy from your side about my person as I trust Harry to use his own common sense instead of listening to an idiot that behaves like a teenager." He then growled out. "The silencing charm rather is to keep _you_ from hurting Harry even more than you've already done."

"What do you mean with – more than I've already done?" Black asked and he wondered if the man was just deaf or if he was stupid. "I haven't hurt Harry. It's you who's hurt him and …"

"Just give me one reasonable example about when exactly I have hurt Harry, Black!" He finally growled. "And until you can do that, you better keep your bloody tongue under control and from spitting lies while at the same time I can tell you exactly where you have hurt the boy, namely last time you've seen him, he came running home, crying, and it has taken me hours to calm him down after you have upset him and not enough, later you've even abducted the child and had his father at wand point and under threat! Of course the child was upset and hurt by you. Maybe you think of just accepting Harry's wishes for once instead of being focused on your wishes only."

"But someone has to make Harry realizing that he's been put under a spell, under the imperious by you, or he wouldn't accept you as his father ever!"

"Just because you are holding a grudge against a person does not mean that your godson holds the same grudge against that person too, Black." He huffed at the idiot man. "Maybe you start realizing that and for Harry's sake we should try to at least ignoring each other if we cannot get along without hurting Harry."

"I'm not hurting him!" Black stubbornly said and he knew, he could say whatever he wanted, Black would never see it that way. In Black's opinion he was the bad guy who was about to hurt and then kill the boy.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

He had called for Albus, and the headmaster had taken Black away – not before he had told him about Black's new idiocy however, much to Black's anger and accompanied by a lot of the man's unthought comments – and then he had gone back to Harry and the other children.

The boy had been exceptionally calm, considering that his godfather had just came into their quarters by near-force, and had – again – threatened to take Harry away. Not so calm had been Adrian however, the boy had been leaning against Harry, crying and upon his entrance the first question from the second year had been if Black would be able to take Harry away from them.

Of course he had tried to reassure Adrian – and Harry too – just like any of the others, that neither Black nor anyone else would be able taking Harry away, but even though Harry had been so very calm, he knew that neither Harry nor Adrian had really believed him and the tension in their quarters had been thick enough to be cut through with a knife – until …

**Flashback**

_"How do you see that there's been a stone eater in the fridge?" Harry asked and he wasn't sure if he – for once – should allow himself to smile at yet another joke, or if he should be worried, because surely no other child would be able to come up with joke over joke in a situation like this, seeing that not only were they all still recovering from imprisonment and a near death experience, but also was the boy chosen to partake in a dangerous competition and had above all else two madmen lingering over his head, one that wanted him dead, namely the Dark Lord, and one that was harming the child with plain stupidity. Not to mention the boy's abuse and neglect at the hands of his relatives._

_And still Harry was able to come up with jokes about the stone eater. _

_"Because of the stone-crumps in the fridge?" Draco asked, taking the opportunity of lightening the mood, something Harry, Draco and Theodore had become very good at, closely followed by Neville and Cameron. Adrian and Miles didn't have the necessary understanding of humour, nor the necessary twisted sense to really grasp and then going on with the stupid jokes Harry was coming up with as they still were trying to find some logic within those jokes. _

_Maybe he should tell them that the stone eater didn't even exist? And surely not a blue stone eater? _

_But well, as long as they were trying to understand those jokes, as long they were busy with thinking about them instead of thinking about other things, like their situation. _

_It wasn't that he didn't want them thinking, because he needed them thinking in the long run anyway, he knew that they had to deal with what had happened, never mind if it was their imprisonment or the imprisonment of their friends or head of house. They had to face it and they had to think about it – but not brooding over it what they would do, would they think about it without his help. _

_He was holding daily conversations with them in the evenings, sometimes short conversations and sometimes long conversations, even disregarding curfew if he deemed it necessary, and during those conversations he wanted them to think, and to remember too. He even didn't mind if they were thinking about it outside of those conversations – as long as they didn't drown in their brooding. And Harry had become remarkably good at diverting them whenever necessary, whenever the mood in the room dropped into the lowest dungeons possible. _

_"No, that could have been the big blue stone eater just as well." Harry shook his head and he huffed at them. _

_"Then because the milk is empty?" Theodore asked, leaning back in his armchair and shaking his hands, trying to loosen cramped muscles from writing._

_Theodore was, just like Harry, one of those children who were holding their quills in a strange way, due to either missed training or injury – or simply weakness in the muscles and sadly two of the three were applying to Theodore and all three to Harry. _

_"Give me your hand, Theodore." He said, going over to the boy and sitting at the dining table where the sextet was working on their essays, starting to massage the boy's fingers. _

_"The small blue stone eater doesn't drink milk!" Harry said, nearly shocked and he shook his head at the boy's playing abilities. _

_"Then how do you see it?" Adrian asked, nearly pulling at the hem of Harry's cloak._

_"It's easy." The boy said, smiling at Adrian. "You see it on the footprints in the butter."_

**End flashback**

Well, after that he'd taken Harry's hands too to massage them, but he'd been still worried at the tiredness he'd been able to see in the boy's face and he'd ordered them to pack their things away and to go outside into their garden for some time and to sit in the autumn sun.

"I'm not really hungry." Harry said, when they crossed the entrance hall.

Well, he'd covered the boy with one of the blankets he'd stored outside even though he had Harry wearing a warm cardigan over his hoodie, and he'd made sure that the boy's legs were securely packed into the blanket.

"You didn't eat much for lunch, nor for breakfast and your snacks between you haven't finished either." He said, not really happy about Harry's eating habit today. Normally the boy was doing his best, even though it was by far too little he was eating for his liking still, but he _was_ doing his best – not so today and he knew that Harry was simply too tired to actually do better than he did right now.

"I think you should go to bed early today." He said, sighing, knowing that today just wasn't a good day. There would be better days coming.

"That would be nice." Harry sighed and he already thought about everything that could make sleep easier for the child, including falling asleep.

"Severus?" Minerva asked, coming over from the sideway that led to the staircase leading to the Gryffindor tower and he stopped, giving Harry a little shove and telling the children to go on towards the great hall, that he would follow them shortly.

"Minerva?" He asked, turning towards the Gryffindor head of house.

"Severus, I'm sorry, I know that you have other worries on your mind right now, but I wanted to talk to you for a moment about Miss Weasley." Minerva said and he inclined his head.

"That is alright." He said. "Miss Weasley is one of those outward students that are still under my responsibility too. What is it with the girl?"

"Well, she's still much too weak and tired, not partaking in meals regularly, often sleeping instead of having them and even though she's struggling, I fear she won't be able catching up on the other students."

"I already thought so and I have warned Molly about that." He said before taking a deep breath and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"What do you suggest, Severus?" Minerva said, sounding desperate. "This is over my head. The girl would need a place where she can get more attention than in a house with more than seventy students."

"Exactly what I have told Molly." He said. "Well, in no way do I enjoy it, but I think we need to go against Molly's wishes. I have offered Miss Weasley already a place in my house and I have explained my reasons to Molly, but somehow she seems to see her son's needs but not her daughter's. She understands that Ronald has suffered, but neither is she able to see that Ginevra is still suffering, nor that the twins have suffered too."

"I agree with you on that." Minerva sighed. "And I fear that Molly won't be happy about it, if you take Miss Weasley into your house and out of regular classes."

"That might be." He huffed. "But not only am I the respective Potions Master at this school, but also do I have unrestricted authorization concerning the care of all from the castle's shutdown affected students – and in my opinion Miss Weasley is affected. Not to mention that I have never cared about what one or another person might think or if they are amenable with my actions."

"Shall I tell her?" Minerva asked and he shook his head.

"No." He said, turning towards the great hall for dinner. "Bring her over to our table tomorrow morning for breakfast should you not hear differently by then. I will prepare my students and our quarters for her arrival until then. I will then explain anything else to the girl."

"Thank you, Severus." Minerva said, walking beside him. "I really don't know what we would do without you. What in Merlin's name …"

"What the …" He growled at the crowd of students in the middle of the entryway, between the double winged doors. "Move aside!" He snarled at the idiots, making a path for himself and Minerva towards the centre of the group, catching one thing or another on his way like –

"What happened?"

"He fell."

"Who fell?"

"Dunno, can't see anything."

"Hey, anyone know what happened there?"

"Let me through, I'll take a picture!"

"Vhy vould you not get Proofessor Snape?" He heard a voice that was unmistakably Victor's voice. "Just make room!"

"Go to your own tables, right now!" Cameron's voice added to Victor's followed by a "leave him alone" coming from Ronald and his worry increased.

"Take a picture and I'll confiscate your camera, Creevey." Another student said and he was close enough to make out Diggory "Just get a move on, there's nothing to look at here!"

He took the last two reaming students on the scuffs of their necks and simply shoved them aside, but what he saw a moment later stopped him dead in his tracks for a moment before he was at Harry's side in a heartbeat.

"Get the Huntingales at the table Victor, Cameron, and make sure that they actually eat." He said, not even bothering with trying to wake Harry in front of the crowd but simply picking the boy up and carrying him out of the hall. Bloody, idiot and sensation-seeking children! He would have at least Creevey in detention – and he would reward not only Cameron and Ronald for their trying to get them away from Harry, but Victor and Diggory too.

That would be one of the first times that a Hufflepuff would get points from him, but well, his son was worth it!

The door to their quarters did already open for him when he approached their home, and he went through the doorway, through the parlour and into the hallway that led to the children's rooms, Harry's and Adrian's room being the first on his left side.

Of course he didn't wonder that the child had dropped – again – seeing that he was still recovering, seeing that he was worse than the others, only three weeks away from nearly having died and magic could only do so much, especially on the weak bodies of his students. He couldn't use much spells or potions, or he would overflow them with magic, causing their bodies to shut down and to go into shock, even now after three weeks – he had to act careful and he needed to have them recovering slowly but safely.

And honestly – down here, in their own environment, they could recover slowly and safely. At least if there weren't some idiot godfathers who were self-centred and only caring about what they wanted and if there weren't some idiot headmasters who thought they needed a competition between their schools – or students who were nosy and sensation-seeking.

Laying the boy atop the bed he summoned a wet cloth and gently ran it over his son's pale face.

Merlin, he was tired himself and considering the boy's health, it was no wonder that he had dropped – and anyway, he was worried to no end. Gently he ran his hand over the child's head, over the forehead, the temples and over the back of his head, searching for swelling or open wounds and taking a deep breath at the swelling he found at the side of the boy's head. He checked the remainder of his son's body, only finding a few bruises but no broken bones and with a sigh of relief he finally summoned two vials – one with a potion that would temporarily strengthen the child's system and one with a calming draught.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Waking with a dull headache and feeling the remnants of a particularly vile potion lingering somewhere in his mouth he knew – something had happened, again, and he tried to open his eyes, slowly. There wasn't however the harsh, white light of the hospital wing that always hurt his eyes upon waking there and he knew – he wasn't in Madam Pomfrey's care – not yet, he thought sarcastically, closing his eyes. He would try figuring out where he was in a moment, when he would be able opening his eyes completely.

Slight movement to his left told him that he wasn't alone and he forced his eyes open again, tried to sit up, but a hand on his chest kept him from this particular movement.

"You will stay in this position for a bit longer, Harry!" He heard Snape's voice even before he could recognize the blurry black outlines of the Potions Master, the man's voice soft and definitely worried. "You have collapsed on your way to dinner and so I brought you home."

"'m sorry." The blasted boy said, apologizing for something he had no control over – again.

"There is no need to be, Harry." Severus growled softly, his heart not being in the growl at all. "You will stay in bed for the reminder of the day and we will see how you are tomorrow."

"But I'm fine, sir." The idiot child said and he took a deep breath.

"Unfortunately I do not believe this, Mr. Snape, seeing as you are always _'fine'_ even if you are just an inch from death's doorstep, and so I fear that I will be a bit overprotective of you for a while now." He said, fixing his dark eyes with the boy's green ones. "And for now you won't go anywhere alone."

"But … but I have to use the loo and surely you won't go with me there, because …"

"Hush, you foolish child." The Potions Master said, placing his hand over the child's cheek, silencing him instantly. "It would not be the first time, and I simply cannot lose you, Harry." He couldn't help saying, his voice shaking slightly now from withholding his emotions. "Not after you have been so close to death just two weeks ago. I will not lose another person I love, Harry!" He then firmly added, nearly as if it were a command.

"Uhm … alright dad, I get it." The blasted child said and he wasn't sure if the boy looked scared of him or worried over him. "I scared the hell out of you. I'm sorry, ok?"

"Actually, yes – you did." He huffed at the idiot child. "But there is still no need to apologize for things which are out of your control. You have collapsed and I have known that it would happen sooner or later, and it won't be the last time either. Your recovery will need time, Harry. It won't be alright from day one to day two and magic or not your body needs rest or it will simply take its rest by shutting down, it's as easy as this."

"That's annoying." The boy whined and he couldn't blame Harry for it. The child had gone through enough already, and without complaining so – so, if he whined once in a while, then Merlin, he would not ridicule the child for that.

"I agree with you on that, but it is also necessary." He said. "Now, why don't you let me help you preparing for bed and then go to sleep?"

"That would be nice." The boy answered with a sigh and he knew, if Harry by free will retired to bed for the night, then he had to be really tired.

"Then up you go – but slowly." He said, helping Harry to get off the bed and steadying him when the boy was clearly unsure on his legs. "Allow your system to get used to the new position your body is in, and take small steps, just the way you have learned down in the dungeons, small steps and don't lift your feet from the ground."

"You know, aunt Petunia would be angry because of the feet dragging." The boy sighed, clearly glad that he was allowed to show his tiredness here.

"I would be shocked were it different, but your aunt is not here and she won't be here ever." He said. "I have never told anyone to stop dragging their feet, because I know that in most cases it is just a sign of tiredness and people are simply not able to pick up their feet. Not to mention that in your case it not only will save you energy but also will give you a sense of security while walking."

"Thanks, dad." Harry said and he – mentally – rolled his eyes.

"Whatever for, you silly child?" He asked.

"For always being there, and for always caring." The boy answered and he – again mentally – sighed.

"There is no reason to thank me for that." He said instead.

"There is." The boy insisted and suddenly the child seemed so much older than not only his fourteen years, but older than he, Snape, too. "I know that it isn't a matter of course, dad. No one has done, but you do, and that's what I thank you for, never mind what you say."

"Foolish child." He growled, not knowing what to say, not knowing how to handle the boy's words, not knowing how to react to the boy's gratitude. "Sit down for your hot milk with honey." He then added, ignoring his heartbeat increasing at the happy smile the boy gave him upon his growl. "Cameron, Victor, I do thank both of you for your consideration in the great hall where you have tried to keep the crowd away. Please get me Harry's cup, Draco. Victor, when has your headmaster appointed curfew for the Durmstrang students?"

"Ve do not haaf a time for beed." The boy answered and he frowned. "My apology for invaading your privacy, I only vanted too knoo if Haary is vell."

"Harry is tired, but otherwise as well as the situation allows." He said upon a gaze at his son before he poured the milk. "But you have not invaded our privacy. Had not one of my students taken you here with him – or her – then you wouldn't have been able to come as the wards are keyed to the children's magical signature, even though they are allowed to bring guests and I do not care what school those guests are from."

"As long as they're not the blue dressed Barbie girls from Beauxbatons." Harry groaned out and he smirked when he brought the now hot cup over to the table. They all were drinking a cup of hot milk with honey before bed, seeing that not only did they need the calories, but also the calming effect of the hot milk.

Not to mention that he thought the ritual was important and that the children liked it.

"I will invite them all over for dinner next weekend." He smirked down at the boy who had just taken a sip of the hot milk and now looked up at him with clear shock written all over his face.

"Please, not, dad …" The teen gasped out and he actually chuckled.

"Drink your milk, Harry." He then said. "Of course I won't do such a thing. However, with one added girl you will have to deal for the time being as I have decided to pull Ginevra out of her regular classes and house, and to take her into this house."

"Great." Ronald said, looking up at him with actually a smile on his face – before his face went scared. "Oh, oh, mum won't like this." The boy then added.

"Your mother will understand, do not worry yourself over something that is not your place to worry about, Ronald." He said. "I will deal with your mother and she will understand. Now, why don't the rest of you imbeciles drink your milk too while we are here? Do you wish to have a small snack, Harry, or do you think that for now the nutrient potion I have added to your milk will suffice for the night?"

"Dad!" The boy called out. "Are you trying to get me exploded?"

"Sure." He smirked. "Because shortly before that we will put you on a roast and have a nice barbecue."

"Nice, then I'd like to have one of the thighs, I think they're best." Draco said, laughing, causing Harry to roll his eyes.

"May I have your fingers then, Harry?" Adrian asked, looking up at Harry with large eyes and he nearly couldn't keep from laughing at the seriousness of that child and the seriousness Harry answered with.

"Sure, Adrian, but I won't make good barbecue meat." The boy said. "Dad always says I'm too skinny."

"Regrettably that is correct." He huffed at his son. "If you were to be put on the roast, not even one of us would have a good meal. Don't look so shocked, Mr. Krum, we of course do not eat children, never mind what the papers say, it was a joke only."

"Uhm, jokes … all the stone eaters are meeting in the forbidden forest – who's missing?"

"I should not have used the word joke." He said, sighing playfully. "Please remind me to not using this particular word in future."

"Dunno, the big blue stone eater of course?"

"No!" Harry smiled, even though he could see the tiredness and the exhaustion through the smile. "It's the _small_ blue stone eater, he's still in the fridge."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued<strong>

**Next time in A few days more**

_Classes at home and a bit of occlumency_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too, thank you …

**House cup: **

At the present time it looks like this:

726 - Gryffindor - Head of House: Catlady

742 - Slytherin - Head of House: evil minded

652 - Ravenclaw - Head of House: Arithmancy Master

369 - Hufflepuff - Head of House: Lovelesslife, on probation


	24. time is like

**Title:**

A few days more

**Author:**

evil minded

**Date:**

Month, 1st 2012

**Timeframe:**

Fourth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

"A few days more" is the sequel to "Twenty-one days" – read and review this first or you wouldn't understand all that happens in this story.

The fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindors have survived their imprisonment in the potions classroom situated in the dungeons. How will they go on in all-day life after their survival? How will they manage to reintegrate into the castle's routine and their classes? How will they be able to go back to life at all? Watch how those who survived fight for their lives and for their peace.

**Disclaimer: **

Did you see Severus alive at the end of 'The deathly hallows'? no?

Do you think I would have had him died if I had written those books? no?

Then you know that 'Harry Potter' does not belong to me … nor does Severus … regrettably …

But Hereweald Hrothgar does …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Please note** the announcement at the end of this chapter, just before the house cup

**Warning:**

Story will contain references to child abuse.

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help … there are too much humans in our world who are or had been mistreated.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be …^.~ … believe me - I am …

* * *

><p>break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line<p>

**Previously in A few days more**

_"Dad!" The boy called out. "Are you trying to get me exploded?"_

_"Sure." He smirked. "Because shortly before that we will put you on a roast and have a nice barbecue."_

_"Nice, then I'd like to have one of the thighs, I think they're best." Draco said, laughing, causing Harry to roll his eyes._

_"May I have your fingers then, Harry?" Adrian asked, looking up at Harry with large eyes and he nearly couldn't keep from laughing at the seriousness of that child and the seriousness Harry answered with._

_"Sure, Adrian, but I won't make good barbecue meat." The boy said. "Dad always says I'm too skinny."_

_"Regrettably that is correct." He huffed at his son. "If you were to be put on the roast, not even one of us would have a good meal. Don't look so shocked, Mr. Krum, we of course do not eat children, never mind what the papers say, it was a joke only."_

_"Uhm, jokes … all the stone eaters are meeting in the forbidden forest – who's missing?"_

_"I should not have used the word joke." He said, sighing playfully. "Please remind me at not using this particular word in future."_

_"Dunno, the big blue stone eater of course?"_

_"No!" Harry smiled, even though he could see the tiredness and the exhaustion through the smile. "It's the small blue stone eater, he's in the fridge."_

**A few days more**

**Chapter twenty-four **

**Day twenty-four – fifteenth of October – Tuesday**

**Time is like ****…**

"Dad?" The boy asked, unsurely looking at the corner where he was leading him into, unsurely looking at the piece of sports equipment he recently had added. He had changed the large underground room every so often now, and the boy had always been eager to try the new things there, rolling on the floor which he had covered with one large and thick mat completely meanwhile, like a carpet, balancing on the large beam, swinging on the ropes which hung from the ceiling now – even though he never managed holding himself on these ropes for long – or crawling through the large tube he'd installed along one wall just two days ago. Even climbing up the wall bars a bit the boy had been eager doing – but apparently the boy was unsure about what to do with this new device.

Not to mention that – he had already learned a new pattern.

Whenever Harry felt unsure about having done something wrong, then it was "sir", whenever the boy was discouraged, then it was a "professor" even, whenever the boy was surprised or annoyed, then it was "Severus" and whenever he felt unsure about new things or situations, about things he didn't know how to handle – as well as whenever the boy felt desperate – then it was "dad" – luckily it was a "dad" too when he was happy, that caused him to feel some hope at least.

"Take off your shoes." He said the moment they had reached the device. "I want you to walk on it without your shoes." He calmly explained when the boy watched him unsurely and questioningly. "Outside in the gardens I won't have you walking without shoes as your ankles are too weak for my liking – one false step on the uneven paths or lawns and you could hurt your ankles, I won't risk this. On this strap you may walk safely, even without shoes, and so I want you walking with your feet bare."

"Why?" The boy asked and he could hear the unsureness in his son's voice still – and the hope that he might not take him as being insolent.

"Because you need to walk and this is an ideal equipment where you can walk on for as long as you like, especially without shoes as it is even, and provides regular movement." He answered.

"But – if you want me to walk more, then I could walk in the garden." The boy said and he would agree with Harry – under different conditions. "Wouldn't that be better even? In the sun and fresh air?"

"Of course that would be better." He therefore agreed. "What is the reason as to why I have you walking out there too, your feet need to feel the uneven ground too – but I need you walking on safe ground for the time being as not only have I noticed that you always try staying close to a wall or similar so that you might get a hold whenever you feel unsure and the need to steady yourself, but also that you turn your feet inwards when walking a distance farther than from the mattresses to the table in the midst of the old potions classroom."

"But … but I'll fall off this thing." The boy said, large eyed, desperately, and he nearly laughed.

"You surely won't fall off." He said.

"But … but I can't run so fast …" The boy tried again to argue, nearly scared meanwhile.

"You are not supposed to run, but to walk." He answered, frowning. "We will adapt the speed of this equipment to your speed you are walking with, and you are expected to walk as slowly as if you were walking through the garden. I promise that we won't have it going faster as you are able to walk."

"But … but … dad …"

"Step on the device and take a hold at the handlebar beside you." He said, realizing that simply trying to get the boy comfortable with words won't work, but that the boy needed to see the safety of the device for himself by doing it and that he therefore needed to lead the child.

There was one more unsure – and clearly begging – gaze Harry cast at him, but then the boy obeyed, like always, stepped on the equipment. And again he wondered how it was that he never had seen this particular child's readiness for obedience before.

Pushing these thoughts and the guilt he felt anew aside, knowing that they were only hindering here, he waved his hand and slowly the conveyor started moving.

Harry gave a gasp away but started – as supposed – to move his legs, slowly walking, nearly as if in slow motion – even though the boy cast a startled, questioning, begging gaze at him again.

"I am behind you, Harry." He softly said, again waving his hand and therefore carefully increasing the speed until it was a slow walk instead of moving in slow motion. "You won't fall off, even if you stopped walking now at all, I am behind you and I would catch you."

He waited a few moments until he could feel that Harry was a bit more comfortable on the walking device while he remembered the day, realizing that this was what he was doing with all these children lately, catching them, never mind if they fell, if they just stumbled, or if they just couldn't catch up – like Ginevra Weasley, Ronald's sister.

**Flashback**

_Movement across the hall caught his attention and he watched Minerva walking over at their table with a very unsure looking girl, having waited for the girl and then met her at the Gryffindor table, asking her to follow her and he hoped that Minerva would already have explained the situation to the youngest Weasley – but considering the clearly questioning expression on the girl's face, no – Minerva had not explained anything, and he sighed with annoyance. _

_"Minerva." He greeted the deputy and Gryffindor head of house the moment the two approached their table – accompanied by curious gazes coming from the present student body, as few as were present seeing that it was Tuesday morning and most of them were either still in bed, trying to get as much moments of sleep as possible – clearly the male population in the castle – or trying to get awake beneath the shower, only a few students from each house being present. The only house except of the Huntingales that was nearly complete, was Slytherin, seeing that he had taught them better than skipping breakfast just because of fifteen minutes of prolonged sleep, and even though he wasn't the head of Slytherin anymore but had a new house now, he was still proud at them – and at Hereweald. His old friend seemed to lead his former house the way he had done, making sure that the children were actually behaving and staying healthy._

_"As we've agreed upon yesterday evening, I bring you Miss Weasley, Severus." Minerva said, not really sounding happy but he meanwhile knew that it wasn't misgivings because he was "stealing" one of her students, but that it was rather unsureness about not only the girl and her well-being, but also about how Mrs. Weasley would react upon the news about her youngest daughter being sent to his, Severus', house. _

_"Professor?" The girl asked, looking up at Minerva questioningly. "Sir?" She then added, looking up at him when Minerva just patted her shoulder in a futile attempt of trying to give comfort and he simply inclined his head towards Minerva before looking down at the girl, keeping his expression neutral as always._

_"Take a seat, Ginevra." He said, extending his hand towards the bench at Emma's free side. "And partake in breakfast. We will talk while you eat. That is no reason for you to abandon your own breakfast, Emma, please finish your porridge. And the same goes for you, Harry. Now, Ginevra, Professor McGonagall and I have decided that – despite your mother's wishes – you would do better in this small house than in Gryffindor where you are not only forgotten but also unseen. I expect you to take a glass of orange juice to your breakfast each morning together with your cup of hot chocolate. You are far behind your classmates, Ginevra, and even though I don't want you overly minding that, it is no long-term solution. You need the freedom to learn without frustration and without the constant negative factor of being behind and this house here allows you exactly this. You will have the possibility to learn in your own speed and in your own ways."_

**End flashback**

Well, alone seeing the girl's shocked face at his speech about learning without frustration and negative factors – it had been worth the onslaught of curses and hexes he would receive from the Weasley matriarch the moment Molly learned of this here. But otherwise, well, it hadn't been a problem as he had feared, the girl had just started eating, only once looking up at him with a soft "thank you" on her lips and that alone was proof enough for him that it had been the right decision.

Ginevra Weasley had always been a polite girl, even though she had the same loud and overbearing characteristics all Weasleys showed, suffering from the need to compete with six older brothers – not to mention Molly having handed down this to her daughter. Sometimes he really pitied Arthur, with not only a wife like Molly, as much as she liked the generally kind woman, but seven children that surely drove him mad from time to time.

However, lately the girl was more silent, slower – not only in learning but in her movements too and he had sometimes seen her just sitting at the Gryffindor table, staring holes into the air. A clear sign that the girl was not well where she was and he hoped that she would be able to integrate into their small house.

"I want you to put weight on your forefoot first and your heel second, Harry." He said, watching the boy close. "Like you do whenever you have a headache – and yes, I have noticed you walking very carefully then what is proof for me that your headaches are as bad as you say – we are meant to land on our forefoot first while walking and we just changed this with time while wearing shoes which incite us to wrong walking. Very good." He said when Harry did, even though he could see that the grip the child had on the handlebar did increase at first upon the unused walking style for a moment before the boy got adapted to it rather quickly.

"Now, release the handlebar, Harry." He softly said from behind the boy a few minutes later, already placing his hand between his son's shoulder blades, not to really steady him or to catch him as he knew – the boy surely wouldn't fall right now, but just to give Harry a sense of safety.

"Wha- no!" Came the immediate call, the boy not only increasing the hold he had on the handle bar but also trying to turn around to look at him incredulously.

"Continue walking." He said. "I am behind you and you won't fall off. Just release the handle bar. I want you to walk freely and without using the hold. You need to get more sureness when it comes to free walking."

"But I can walk freely." The boy said, his hand still on the bar.

"I know that you can." He reassured. "But not only do you always seek a wall close by while walking, but also do I see your hand going towards the wall more often than not. I know that you can walk freely, this particular learning process you have mastered already years ago after all – but you are tired and you are not healthy, and therefore your footing is unsure. And understandably so in your situation but we have to work on that or you will have troubles later on. You have been unsure your entire life, child, you don't need to be insecure for the remainder of your life too. Just trust me and release the bar."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

He'd been – well, surely not scared!

He was a fourteen year old teenager and surely he was not scared of walking on a thingy people used in a gym. He _could_ walk after all, like Severus had said, even if the man had expressed it – cooler. A few weeks ago he would have said snarky and sarcastic and he wouldn't have liked it, but now, well, somehow Severus' jokes actually _were_ cool.

However, so – no, he hadn't been scared, he'd just been – something. He'd been unsure, because the ground so often seemed to move lately and then he slipped and stumbled, not to mention that he always was so tired, and in one thing the older wizard was definitely correct: he'd been hurt enough in his life and somehow, he didn't want to fall and break new bones again, not to mention that it only would be a new indication of his weakness.

But well, it had been ideal to get a new stone eater joke at his dad.

**Flashback**

_Merlin, he felt so damn stupid, it was as if – as if he were a small baby. _

_Of course he liked it when his dad called him a 'foolish child', because no one had ever acknowledged him as a child, no one had ever – everyone had always expected things of him which had been far over his head, except of his real parents maybe, he couldn't be sure about that, because he didn't really remember them. But everyone else. _

_The headmaster and all the others expected him to be the saviour of the wizarding world, to save them all from uncle Voldie and his Death Eaters – but he didn't even know how he could do that when all the adult wizards around him were scared of uncle Voldie and were unable getting him out of the way. And Professor McGonagall had always expected him to do exceptionally good in classes because he was the Boy-Who-Lived, because he was the chosen one, never mind the little fact that he'd never even heard of the wizarding world before he had come to Hogwarts, never mind the little fact that he'd grown up in a household where the words magic or wizards or something like that were forbidden and got punished._

_And then his friends, they always had expected him to lead them through several adventures, and safely so, they had expected that some of his fame would spread over at them, one had just to look at Ron to know that. And Sirius too had expected him to be brave and adventurous, saying that his father would be very proud of him because of all his adventures._

_And even Hagrid had always expected to solve his problems, with Norbert, with Buckbeak and with some Blast-Ended Skrewts. _

_The only one who'd ever addressed him as a child, who'd ever allowed him being a child – was Snape, of all people. Snape allowed him to be silly, to make his jokes – and he even smiled about them. Surely the man wouldn't outright laugh at his jokes, because Severus Snape didn't laugh. Well, he'd seen the man laughing, and so he knew that Snape could, but Snape had also told them that, should this make public notice, then he'd kill them. In other words, he better forgot that the Potions Master had laughed out loud, even though he'd liked it each time it had happened, even though it hadn't been often. _

_But the man often smiled at them, at him, and he definitely smiled at his jokes and at his silliness generally. He accepted him as the child he was and even forbade things that could hurt him or that could be dangerous – no adventures, he'd said, and no going after uncle Voldie. Alright, Snape had not said uncle Voldie, he'd said the Dark Lord, but that was the same anyway. _

_However, so – yes, he was a child and he was happy that Snape acknowledged him being a child, but he wasn't a baby!_

_And learning how to walk safely fell very much into this category!_

_So – no, he was definitely not scared, but – yes, he didn't feel too good about his constant fear of falling, he knew that falling wasn't too bad, he'd often fallen when he'd been smaller. And he didn't feel too good about this thingy either, because on the ground he could sit down whenever he was tired, before he fell, but this thingy moved! How was he to simply sit down when his legs were tired now? _

_Taking a deep breath he released the handle of the thing while walking, already expecting to fall off the thing but nothing happened, he just walked on, the thing didn't run fast enough so that he'd fall off. Not to mention that still his dad had his hand on his back, he could feel it, and it felt good, it felt secure. _

_For a moment he wondered how his childhood would have been, had he had a father who'd comforted him through different things, but then he gritted his teeth and shook the thoughts off – he was here, and he hadn't had a father like this, so it was a moot point anyway._

_"There's a river and you want to get across, but it's known for its very vicious stone eaters who'd all changed their eating habits – so, how do you get to the other side?" He asked, just to get his own mind off the stupid thoughts. _

_"I don't know how you'd get across that bloody river, but I know that you would have had a far better life had you had the support of a father who stood by your side, something I would have been very happy about, even though I wouldn't have been able to adopt you then, but I know that you would not have the troubles you have now, that you would be much healthier than you are." His dad said and he smiled, already feeling better, because he knew that – yes, his life might have been better, but then he wouldn't have the man as his father now. "Now, how do you pass those vicious stone eaters in the river?"_

_"That's easy, dad." He playfully whined, nearly smiling at the older wizard lifting his eyebrow at him in his typical Snape-mannerism. "You swim, because all the stone eaters are at the meeting anyway, they can't eat you!"_

**End flashback**

He didn't really know why he came up with all those jokes, and he knew that they were stupid too – but somehow he was able to lighten the mood with them, and somehow he was able to divert his father's attention away from his weakness. And he was able to give himself a bit of sureness too – at least that was what he thought it was.

It had been really funny when Victor had asked about them, because they all had told him joke over joke about the stone eater and Severus had looked as if he'd had a very severe tooth-ache or something like that. Even though he was sure that inwardly the Potions Master had grinned, because his black eyes had looked not cold, but warm.

Strange, how he meanwhile knew the difference in Severus' several expressions while in the past he'd never seen anything than a mask.

Sighing he turned back towards the essay he was to write, about the misuse of the unforgivables – or rather the use of them as they were forbidden and as therefore they couldn't be misused as alone the use of them was already misuse. Somehow he was sure that his line of thinking held a mistake, but he didn't really care. He'd finish this essay, and then he'd lay down and sleep.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Leaving the dungeons and approaching the ground level with the main hall, the entrance hall and the great hall, he for a moment run his hand over his face, tiredly. He'd rather be with his children right now, sitting with them in the parlour for some time before retiring to bed. But well they had a teacher meeting once a month – and knowing that those bloody meetings were actually important, he of course attended.

Trelawney never attended them, and he – as well as Minerva and other teachers – always got rather unhappy about it, because lack of knowledge what was happening at the school led to mistakes, not only in teaching but in handling one or another student too.

He should have listened to Minerva and Poppy in the past during those bloody meetings.

He'd always attended them, never mind what, because he thought them important, but nevertheless he'd never listened to those two, or he would have found out about Harry being abused sooner. Poppy at least had mentioned one thing or another while Minerva had at least been very unhappy about the boy's constant tiredness and being a skeleton.

But well, it was only fair that he now had to deal with the child being two steps behind, again, while he, Severus had to be unbelievingly patient to not snap at the boy in any form for his constant apologizing and flinching away or other signs of fear – and nothing else they were than signs of fear, Harry feared him.

And considering the child's latest encounter with Creighton alias Fenrir, it was no wonder that the child feared him, feared them all. He was sure that, regular lessons with another teacher, maybe even Minerva or Hagrid, would be impossible. A near disaster had already been the talk about the mutt visiting.

**Flashback**

_"I've had a conversation with Albus." He slowly started, leaning back in his armchair, preparing for the worst. But well, he's never been one beating around the bush, and so – "He has told – ordered me – to give your dogfather another chance."_

_Well, the reaction was better than he had thought it would be, the boy not screaming bloody murder and running for his life, but only going rigid and pale while looking over at him scared. Not a reaction he liked, but well, better than he had feared. _

_"Breathe, Harry." He calmly said when the boy had clearly trouble doing so, getting off his armchair and approaching his son. "Just take a deep breath … that's right … and now release it slowly … very good, again. Do not for one moment think that I would allow Black any kind of power over you, Harry, he can do absolutely nothing." He reassured. "He'll get one chance of seeing you, for dinner next week, here in our quarters and with my person being present to watch the situation – that is all. Should he behave as poorly as he has done in the past then not only will he be thrown out, but he also will face constant banishment from these parts of the castle, set by our house elf."_

_"He'll always try to get me away from you." The boy whispered, his shoulders dropping and it was clear, Harry knew what the bloody idiot dog wanted, He wasn't stupid enough to get lulled by his godfather – something he was very glad for. _

_"I know." He simply answered, truthfully. "One question anyway, Harry – do you know if you've been baptized by your parents?"_

_The boy looked over at him, questioningly for a moment, frowning with concentration, trying to remember anything his relatives might have mentioned one or another time as he was sure the boy didn't remember his earliest childhood, but then Harry shook his head in a clear way that wasn't a "no" but an "I don't know", and he inclined his head._

_"Then we'll find an answer to that." He said. "I'll do a floo call to the ministry first thing tomorrow morning, and then we'll have an answer to that."_

_"Why?" The boy asked, calmer than he'd been moments before and he sat back into the chair he'd been sitting in before. _

_"Because a godfather has the responsibility of taking over when your parents cannot look after you anymore, whatever reason for that may be, death, illness or anything else. A godfather however is then appointed when a child gets baptized. Have you not been baptized, then Sirius Black – clearly appointed by your father as I know that your mother wasn't so fond of him – isn't your valid godfather in the first place what gives me the freedom to appoint a different godfather."_

_"That means – you'd have me baptized?" The boy asked and he lifted his eyebrow._

_"Would you have any problems with that?" He asked back. Of course he wouldn't force the boy, he knew well that a statement of faith should be done by free will or it wouldn't be valid anyway, but of course he would give the boy a little shove into the direction to begin with as he was sure that the Dursleys had never cared about any kind of religious education. _

**_Flashback within flashback_**

_"What do you believe in, sir?" Harry's small voice was heard, softly enough so he could have chosen to ignore it, but the question had sounded so desperately, somehow he couldn't and he regarded the child with a long and thoughtful gaze._

_"Come here, Harry." He then said, feeling that this was very important for the boy and he wanted to have him close by. The teen hesitated for a moment, looking at him unsurely as if he didn't know if he were in trouble for asking this question or not, but he waved him over and finally the boy scrambled forth from underneath the blanket and over to him. He still had one arm around Seamus' shoulder and with his other he now pulled Harry closer._

_"This is a very difficult question and the answer to that is not easy." He started. "I definitely do believe in our Lord. And I do not mean the Dark Lord, but God. And I do believe in him, because I think that the way life functions, human beings, the way we are able to move our limbs, our body functions, our brains and our hearts, the way we feel, we grow, the way animals are living, plants, our planet – this all would not be possible in its entire fineness, if there were not a much more powerful force at work than what we can grasp with our limited understanding. Would life have started with a small cell, then what had started this particular cell? Not to mention that the chance of correct segmentation was one to ten millions, and this another million times, rather small, such a chance, don't you think? Life would never have enfolded the way it is now. But it is, life in its entire fineness does exist, and so – yes, I do believe in our Lord. I however do not believe in any kind of churches, because in the very beginning there had been no churches either. People had been praying without a church and people had been talking to our Lord without having a building they went into. I am sure that if there is someone like our Lord existent, then he surely will not mind if we are praying in a church or if we are praying in the bathroom. I believe that he will be very satisfied if we talk to him wherever we are, as long as we do talk to him at all."_

_The boy was quiet for a while, looking thoughtfully, as did the other children and he wondered what was going through that child's mind._

_"What do you believe in, Harry?" He then asked._

_"I don't know." The boy then said, nearly whispered, averting his eyes. "I've never … I mean, no one ever talked to me about that. My aunt always said that I'll rot in hell anyway."_

_"That is not true, child!" Severus seethed angrily and the boy looked up at him, startled, as did some others. "That is not true." He repeated a bit calmer then. "You are a child, and our Lord surely will not have any child going to hell. What have you done, Harry, to deserve being punished like this? No, Harry!" He protested when the boy started to open his mouth and to say something, most probably some ridiculous notions his blasted relatives had beaten into him for years until he had believed them._

_"You have done nothing that would warrant a stay in hell, child." He said, piercing the boy with his dark eyes before doing the same with the others. "Nor has any other of you. 'And he arose from thence and cometh into the coasts of Judaea by the farther side of Jordan, and the people resort unto him again. And, as he was wont, he taught them again. And they brought young children to him, that he should touch them, and his disciples rebuked those that brought them. But when Jesus saw it, he was much displeased, and said unto them, suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of God.'"_

_"You are versed in the bible?" Hermione asked startled._

_"Of course I am." He growled darkly. "My mother had taught me some things after all, you foolish child!"_

_At that Harry beside him started giggling and with a raised eyebrow he looked down at the child that leaned against him, knowing well what had caused that giggle, namely the words 'foolish child'. A moment later however he noticed that the giggles started to change into sobs and another moment later Severus felt Harry pulling him down to wrap his thin arms around his neck, silently crying as the realization of true freedom of support and caring and relief sank in and with a sad sigh he pulled the boy closer, wrapped his own arms around the horribly thin body of the child._

_**End flashback within flashback**_

_He had not thought that the child would survive, back then, had been so sure that Harry would soon die, but Harry hadn't and with each day that passed now his chances of survival grew more and more. Of course he knew that the child would never grow as tall as others would, and he knew that the child would always suffer from several disorders, but he would live and he would live as healthy as possible, he would make sure._

_"No." The boy answered, an answer he was glad about. "I just don't know how to take it, what it means or – well, whatever."_

_"We'll talk about that at a later point." He said, relieved. "It will be your decision anyway."_

_"Will it be catholic or Lutheran?" The boy asked and he frowned. So, Harry knew that there were two big churches, that was a beginning, seeing that Petunia had kept the boy as a house elf for years, not even allowing him primary school, it meant that Harry had found other means to gain general knowledge._

_"Neither." He answered. "With the baptism you only declare that you believe in Jesus Christ and that you seek to follow him. It will be a baptism of a free Jesus Community."_

**End flashback**

Well, the boy had asked a lot of questions, had found a different subject that distracted him from Black, and so he'd been happy to answer them as good as possible – even though his answers had awoken new questions, and not only from Harry, but from others too.

Later they had practiced a bit of occlumency and he'd been very happy about the progress the boy made with this.

Harry had soon chosen to visualize a forest with overgrown foliage as – some kind of barrier that would protect his mind from outside intrusion and he had only recently added hunting beasts similar to Diagon, that prowled the perimeter as further protection and now they had started to work on separating his thoughts into well-ordered compartments that were scattered throughout the forest, the real start of occlumency. He'd been very interested in seeing what the boy would be going to devise for that, and somehow he had been satisfied when he'd noticed that Harry had used trees, small caves, and a lake even.

He still wondered how it was that he could enter Harry's mind, that he could just like that step through the barriers the boy had erected. Neither of the plant was keeping him, nor were the animal attacking him, the hunting beasts didn't even look at him. It was as if the child was giving him free access to his mind, unconditional and unlimited access.

He'd watched the boy at one point, had seen a small smile crossing the pale face and upon taking a step closer he could see a spider scurrying across the trunk of the tree, a black and hairy spider that might easily and comfortably fit onto Harry's outstretched palm. Well, he knew that the boy wasn't scared of spiders, seeing his reaction to his, Snape's, animagus form, but it was still strange anyway, a child being happy about spiders and even wanting to have them in their imaginary world.

"You're late, Severus." Albus said the moment he entered the staff room.

"Don't fuss, Albus." Minerva scolded with the headmaster, patting the chair beside her as if calling a small child over to sit beside her and he lifted his eyebrow at her. "We've been waiting for you to start with the meeting anyway, you've missed nothing."

"Thank you." He said, straightening up to his full height – as Harry had so effectively noticed during the past two or three weeks, he _did_ have a reputation to protect, after all – but then he went over to her to sit beside her anyway, knowing that the woman only meant good anyway.

"Well then, let's start with the meeting." Albus said, sighing.

"Severus." Minerva whispered, leaning over at him. "You look like you haven't slept in days. Why haven't you asked for help with the children, and with Harry especially?"

"He's _my_ child." Severus whispered back, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He didn't need help! "And I am perfectly capable of taking care of my own son."

"That's not what I'm implying, and you know it." Minerva shook her head. "This is not the time for stubbornness. Harry needs you at your full strength, and there is nothing wrong or shameful about having someone sit with Harry – or the other children – while you get some sleep. Must I visit you daily until you accept help?"

Holding his head high he huffed at the woman, his face dark. Merlin, this woman always managed to unbalance him enough so that he felt like a bloody student again.

"Well, you are a head of a house, having access to each and every part of the castle – and I will not key the wards of our quarters against you should you desire – tea." He then said, and that was as close of accepting help as Severus would ever allow. He didn't ask for help or rely on others, never! "That will be as acceptable as possible for a Gryffindor to invade my private quarters." He then glared at the woman.

"I believe that has already happened before, but I look forward to tea nonetheless." Minerva coughed to cover up her laughter, leaving him scowling. Damn! How could he have _not_ foreseen cornering himself with that remark, and towards a Gryffindor no less? He really must be more sleep deprived as he had thoguht if he allowed a Gryffindor of all people to outwit him!

"Severus, Minerva, please." Albus said and he frowned at the headmaster. "You're worse than the students are. We're currently trying to find a substitution for Alastor, after all."

"You're what … ?" He couldn't help coughing, his eyes large on the headmaster.

"Had you paid attention to the meeting instead of chatting with Minerva, then you would have heard my explanation to that." Albus said, but he still couldn't help googling at the older wizard. "Honestly, Severus, were it one of your students, then you already would have appointed detention or taken house points."

"I know your explanation, seeing that Moody has cursed one of _my_ students with an unforgivable if you haven't forgotten that." He huffed at his old friend the moment he had himself back under control. "I just cannot believe that he really has admitted to that – nor that you would really question him about it, not to mention throwing him out of the castle. You cannot deny that you suffer from the tendency of allowing dangerous and criminal people at your school because you think they should get at least fifty more chances before you lose your patience with them."

"Oh, my dear Severus." Albus sighed and he huffed again, nearly shaking his head but lifting his eyebrow instead – that was much more dignified than shaking his head or rolling his eyes. "Yes, yes, you are right, of course, my dear boy, I am too soft and I know it. But this time I really haven't had any other chance, because I've seen it when I entered his mind. There was something strange with his mind though, as if I had scanned the mind of a wrong person, but well, that's another story and I'll deal with it later. However, after I have seen him using an unforgivable on Harry, I haven't had another chance than having him leaving the castle. Harry has suffered enough and I wouldn't have him suffering yet more, even if that meant that I had to hurt Alastor. I'll visit him later in the week, and then I'll care about his mind and why it was so strange. Maybe you could accompany me, my boy? You are far better in legillimency than I am."

"Of …"

"No, he won't, Albus!" Poppy said and he looked over at the woman, incredulously.

"And why ever not, woman?" He asked, nearly angrily. He'd never allowed anyone – except of two madmen, namely the Dark Lord and Albus – ruling over his life, and he wouldn't start doing so now.

"Because you have a house full of ill students which are still recovering – as do you." Poppy said, and even though he inwardly had to agree with her he glared at the woman.

"That does not qualify you for ruling over my doings or not doings." He growled darkly.

"Actually, it does, Severus, as I'm working hand in hand with Adam Chandler." Poppy smirked at him and he groaned. "And therefore I know that Adam not only has appointed you to take free time – which you have not done so far – but that he also wouldn't approve of an action like using legillimence on a criminal. You need all your strength and you need all your time for your house and yourself. So, you either refer from going with Albus – and take a rest for yourself instead – or I'll simply contact healer Chandler."

"Bloody woman!" He cursed under his breath, but inwardly he knew that Poppy was right of course, he couldn't deny that he _was_ tired, after all, even though he would never admit it loudly.

"Of course, Poppy, and my apology, Severus." Albus said. "I should have thought about that, really. How are the children and you?"

"Well, yesterday we still stood at the abyss, today we're already a step further." He growled at the older wizard. For a moment there was silence in the room and he looked up, questioningly for a moment, frowning at the looks he received. "What?" He asked.

"I begin to know where Harry has his silly sense of humour from." Minerva beside him said.

"I do not have a – silly sense of humour!" He growled.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Professor?" Came Victor's voice from behind him when he crossed the entrance hall and turning he was just in time to see the boy getting up from the floor where he apparently had been waiting for him.

"I do know that your headmaster has not set curfew, Victor, but don't you think that it is a bit late for you, even though you're of age?" He asked when the boy came over and met him at the middle of the hall.

"Yes, professor." The boy answered, really sounding sorry – and rather nervous. "You are right aand you haf my apology – and I am really sorry to take your time away, but – I do haf a question."

"Time is like a companion that reminds us to live every moment as decent and as dignified as possible, Victor, because it won't come back to give us another chance." He said, extending his hand towards the dungeons and he could see the boy releasing his breath with a relieved sigh while he accompanied him to the Huntingales' common room.

Victor could feel the wards washing over him, like last time, when he'd come here with that other boy, the older boy of the group, Cameron was his name. Back then he'd been able to feel the wards too, strong wards, wards of a purity that was startling, but wards that allowed him through anyway, without a password as if they weren't present.

He'd heard what the Professor had said, last time, that the wards let anyone through while being invited and in company of one of the students living here, and so he knew that they were there of course, but it was strange anyway, passing wards without giving a password, or without placing his hand at a wall or door like at Durmstrang. It was also strange how they felt – but he liked it.

If only the Professor would not say no, but his chances for that were nearly non existent.

"What can I help you with so that you were sitting on the floor in the entrance hall until late night, waiting for me, Mr. Krum?" The Professor asked and he tried to downplay his nervousness. He had already learned that students were in trouble if this particular Professor used the students' surnames. Not when it came to his own students, his own students seemed to be never in trouble, but the others.

Not that this was the reason as to why he –

"My apology for that, Proofessor." He said, just to be on the safe side. Well, it was now or never, because he couldn't go back. "I knoow that it is a rather unusual question, but I ask you to admit me in your house."

Well, and now that it was out he would like it to take his words back.

How could he have been so stupid!

Trying to read the man's expression in the hope to find out what the Professor was thinking, he nearly held his breath – but of course he couldn't read the man's expression, Professor Snape was as calm and as unreadable as always, not even looking angry. He knew that Professor Karkaroff would have had his hide for alone the question, for disloyalty and for treachery, for betraying not only his school but his headmaster also.

"May I ask as to why you seek – shelter in my house, Mr. Krum?" Professor Snape calmly asked, just the moment when he was about to turn, and he looked up, too startled to answer for a moment. He'd been so sure that the man would be angry at the worst or would ignore his question, waving it off at the best, not that the teacher would take it seriously.

"I – I do not want to study the dark arts, Proofessor." He calmly said. "I always wanted to becoome a potions master but my headmaster – at Durmstrang we cannot study what we want, but what our headmaster expects of us."

"When would these studies of the dark arts start, Mr. Krum?" The professor asked and again he was – amazed at how serious the other wizard took his question.

"My headmaster said this competition would be a good start for learning the dark arts." He honestly answered. "He also said that I cannot tell because in this competition the dark arts were not allowed."

"That is correct." Professor Snape said. "What will your headmaster do the moment you admit to him that you would like to change not only houses but school – and I am sure that you know, this is the condition for entering a Hogwarts house, that you become a Hogwarts student."

"That would haf me out of the tournament?" He asked and he couldn't help sounding hopeful.

"I am sure you remember the fiasco with Harry." The Professor said and he nodded his head – yes, idiotic question, of course he did remember. "Then you also should know that never mind which school you are from, the tournament will have you partaking. You have entered a magically binding contract and as much as I would like seeing all students out of these – _games_ – never mind which school they are from, I am unable to do anything or I would have Harry out of this first thing. Now, an answer to my question, what would your headmaster do the moment you admit to him that not only would you like to change houses, but schools too?"

Professor Karkaroff had chosen him as his champion, and he had – in unmistakable terms – made it clear that he expected him as a participant of his school or he would be dead. Professor Karkaroff didn't care if he survived the tournament or not, as long as he won it. The professor had always seen him as "his" demonstration piece. In other words, he was dead anyway.

"I better do not think about that, Professor." He said, shuddering, trying to not thinking about what Professor Karkaroff would do with him.

"In this case, I cannot help you, Mr. Krum." The Professor said and he took a deep breath before getting up from his chair. He had known it, and he could be lucky that the man hadn't killed him so far – or at least punished him in any other way – for his audacity.

A moment later he frowned at the man's words, thinking.

He'd said that he better didn't think about it – in other words, that he didn't want to tell the man what Professor Karkaroff would do and only then had Professor Snape said that – in this case he couldn't help him. He hadn't said he couldn't help him at all, only that in this case, should he be unable telling him what …

"Weell, Professor Karkaroff would not be pleased." He said, slowly, unsure if he was correct, but Professor Snape didn't send him away. He sat there and listened. "He would accuse me of treachery and disloyalty, of betraying not only my school but my headmaster too." And still Professor Snape listened instead of waving him off. "He would not only expel me openly and under disgrace, but he also would give a bad report, making sure that I couldn't attend any other school or institution ever again. Not to mention from his punishment."

"That would consist in – what?" Professor Snape asked and for a moment he hesitated before he took a deep breath. The man seemed to expect an answer, never mind what.

"Professor Karkaroff – uses to use a cursed quill on the students." He carefully said, not sure how far he could go, not sure if it was wise, giving the dark man ideas. "The number and the length of the lines being dependant on the crime of the students."

"I see." The man said, leaning back in his chair, still looking calmly and he looked at the fire, just to take his mind off the upcoming punishment. He'd once displeased his headmaster, and the man had magically glued him to sit at his desk and had then started writing. It had been 'You are not to displease your headmaster or you shall be punished severely', a small line only, he knew students at Durmstrang who'd been punished with much longer lines, but professor Karkaroff had written the line two hundred and fifty times on a piece of parchment, slowly – and at the same time the lines had cut open his back over and over again while he'd been helplessly enduring the pain, feeling the blood running down his back. "Did your headmaster bring his quill with him to Hogwarts?" The man asked and he sighed.

"Yes, sir." He then answered. "He has packed it."

"Very well." The Professor said and he inwardly prepared himself for the rejection. "In this case I expect you to remain here at the sofa for the time being and until we have a better solution. I will have my house elf gathering your belongings and I will have a word with Professor Karkaroff. Seeing that this particular house holds lessons here, you will be safe from your headmaster as long as he is a guest at this school. From your last visit you know where the bathroom is, so now I expect you to prepare for bed and then lay down at the sofa – and for further notice, Mr. Krum, curfew is at eleven p.m. and I expect you sleeping by then." – Was all the man said before leaving him sitting at the sofa in his quarters, going to a room himself which he was rather sure was the man's private room.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued<strong>

**Next time in A few days more**

_Some routine starts taking hold – and a nice discussion _…

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too, thank you …

**House cup: **

please note that Arithmancy Master, the Ravenclaw head of house, has retired because of private reasons and real life taking over – in other words, I am looking for a new Ravenclaw head of house. This post will be temporary until NaNo that starts in November first, and only then, should Arithmancy Master not come back until then, the post will become permanent. I do send greetings and my best wishes to Arithmancy Master in hopes that all will become well soon …

the present time it looks like this:

758 - Gryffindor - Head of House: Catlady

751 - Slytherin - Head of House: evil minded

677 - Ravenclaw - Head of House: free post

372 - Hufflepuff - Head of House: Lovelesslife, on probation


	25. Karkaroff, Molly and Malfoy

**Title:**

A few days more

**Author:**

evil minded

**Date:**

Month, 1st 2012

**Timeframe:**

Fourth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

"A few days more" is the sequel to "Twenty-one days" – read and review this first or you wouldn't understand all that happens in this story.

The fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindor have survived their imprisonment in the potions classroom situated in the dungeons. How will they go on in all-day life after their survival? How will they manage to reintegrate into the castle's routine and their classes? How will they be able to go back to life at all? Watch how those who survived fight for their lives and for their peace.

**Disclaimer: **

Did you see Severus alive at the end of 'The deathly hallows'? no?

Do you think I would have had him died if I had written those books? no?

Then you know that 'Harry Potter' does not belong to me … nor does Severus … regrettably …

But Hereweald Hrothgar does …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Please note** the announcement at the end of this chapter, just before the house cup

**Warning:**

Story will contain references to child abuse.

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help … there are too much humans in our world who are or had been mistreated.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be …^.~ … believe me - I am …

* * *

><p>break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line<p>

**Previously in A few days more**

_"Did your headmaster bring his quill with him to Hogwarts?" The man asked and he sighed._

_"Yes, sir." He then answered. "He has packed it."_

_"Very well." The Professor said and he inwardly prepared himself for the rejection. "In this case I expect you to remain here at the sofa for the time being and until we have a better solution. I will have my house elf gathering your belongings and I will have a word with Professor Karkaroff. Seeing that this particular house holds lessons here, you will be safe from your headmaster as long as he is a guest at this school. From your last visit you know where the bathroom is, so now I expect you to prepare for bed and then lay down at the sofa – and for further notice, Mr. Krum, curfew is at eleven p.m. and I expect you sleeping by then." – Was all the man said before leaving him sitting at the sofa in his quarters, going to a room himself which he was rather sure was the man's private room._

**A few days more**

**Chapter twenty-fifth **

**Day twenty-fifth – sixteenth of October – Wednesday**

**Karkaroff, Molly and Malfoy**

"Professor?" The boy asked the moment he left his bedroom and entered the main hall of their private chambers that served as living room and dining room at the same time, and he frowned. Did all the children called out this particular word in a questioning way lately? Victor at least was already standing there, awaiting him and looking unsurely, nearly scared and he realized – world best seeker or not, of age or not, Victor Krum was just a teenager, a seventeen year old boy.

"You are awake early." He simply commented. "I thought you would sleep longer, considering that it had been very late last night. Good morning."

"I just – you won't get into trouble, Professor, will you?" The boy asked and he lifted his eyebrow.

"Leave this concern to me, please, Victor." He said. "Accompany me to the kitchen, please. I guess your headmaster will by now have noticed that you have been missing from this ship of yours for an entire night." He said while entering the kitchen, followed by Victor – and Diagon, wherever this bloody desert cat had come from, it hadn't been there a moment ago – and starting to prepare the nutrient potions he'd brewed together with Hereweald a few nights ago. Well, Diagon was always there the moment one of them entered the kitchen, somehow seeing this realm as his private lair. Maybe because there was food in the kitchen, maybe because it had been born in there, he didn't know.

"Hand me the bananas please, Victor." He said, then taking the basket the boy was reaching over. "And cut the grapes in half. We won't need much, half a handful for everyone. Well, I am sure that there will be a scene during breakfast this morning, but nevertheless I want you present in the great hall because not only am I able to deal with your headmaster, but also do I trust not only my colleagues but Professor Dumbledore too to keep things from going out of hands and to then reacting according to the situation – preferably in a ban spoken against Professor Karkaroff concerning his freedom to enter the castle. Please hand me the small bottle with the chestnut juice, I need a drop in each potion. I ask you to not leaving the castle during the next few days until things have settled." He said after he had cut half a banana into each potion.

"Why would you add fruit to this potion, Professor?" The boy asked after nodding at his suggestion while he finished the potions and then sent them to the great hall where they would wait for the children, like always. "Like this they are no potions anymore, are they?"

"Of course they are." He said drying his hands on a towel after having washed them. "Not only will the vitamins of the fruit be important to the children, but also do they like it – and this way I have the potion in them without discussion."

"But this potion doesn't taste bad." The boy said, still not understanding.

"No, for once it doesn't." He agreed. "But that doesn't mean that the children don't need variety in their meals and I am sure that you understand, the same nutrient potion each morning, will not help these children. Now come, let's see how many of them are awake by now and whom we have to wake yet."

Well, that was one hurdle taken, on to the next.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Which came just half an hour later the moment they entered the great hall.

Igor Karkaroff was already waiting in there, discussing with a clearly annoyed Albus and he took a deep breath the moment he entered. Steeling his face and his stance he ushered the children to their table and had them sitting down, glad that Albus for once didn't say something like "oh, look, there they are" but kept discussing with the Durmstrang headmaster. He had them all sitting when Karkaroff turned upon murmur in the great hall changing and finally noticed them, and came over – followed by Albus, Minerva and Filius.

"Severus, my friend." The man said but he didn't look like – greeting a friend. "How is it that I find one of my students in your presence after he has been missed an entire night. But I am sure that there is a reasonable explanation to that."

"There is indeed." He said, not sitting down himself. "Start eating, all of you." He said, hoping that Cameron and Victor would take over the situation and get the younger children – especially Harry, Theodore, Emma and Adrian – eating, something he rather doubted as Victor was nervous and scared himself. "I do not take abuse of students lightly, seeing that I am not only a teacher but a head of house and a Potions Master too, and that therefore I am well versed in the arts of healing – and have sworn an oath to never harm a person or allow harm to befall him."

"What is it you are accusing me of, Severus?" Karkaroff asked and he lifted his eyebrow at the act the man was playing. "I expect you in my office right now, Victor."

"You will go nowhere, Mr. Krum." Severus said, not even looking at the boy but keeping his eyes on Karkaroff. "Remain sitting and start breakfast. I am speaking of blood quills you are using on students, blood quills you are writing with while keeping them bound to their desks."

"This is nonsense, but even if, then it is none of your business either." Karkaroff said and he knew that the man was correct as he came from a different country and as long as he didn't use them in Great Britain, he couldn't do anything. "Victor is my student and it is in my way how I handle him."

"Actually, Mr. Krum is seventeen years old and therefore of age." He said, calmly, not liking the nervousness the children are displaying. "And he has officially changed schools, something he is allowed as he is of age, and as a Hogwarts student and a student of my house he is under my protection."

He noticed Oliver Wood, Rodger Davis, Derrik Montague and Cederic Diggory approaching their table from the several different tables of the other houses and knowing that the Durmstrang students didn't have the best reputation within the walls of Hogwarts he inwardly steeled himself for a fight that would get the situation out of hands.

"I should have thought that you are a traitor, Severus." Karkaroff said and he smirked at the man. "But I would not have thought that you would fall into my back and steal my champion from me. You have one, and now you are stealing mine too! Are you planning on stealing this French girl too?"

"I have no interest in this bloody competition and had I any saying in this then I would cancel it first thing this morning." He huffed at the idiot man, watching the three captains from the other houses sitting down at their table and – filling the children's plates and starting breakfast with them. He cast a quick glance at them and gave a short inclining of his head in thanks. "I suggest you leave this castle and I suggest you leave my students alone."

Well, he knew how important it was that they had some help right now – but never would he have thought that this particular help would come from the Quidditch captains of the several houses. Unity, indeed, Hogwarts was showing to the outward dangers, and he was proud of them. He would – secretly, mind you – award them points or he would reward them otherwise.

"Are you kicking me out of the castle?" Karkaroff asked, taking a step closer and he lifted his eyebrow at the other headmaster, not even lifting the hand with his wand. He knew Karkaroff, and Karkaroff was a coward with a big mouth, too cowardice to actually attacking him. But whatever the man wanted doing – it was Albus who stepped between the two and in front of him, Severus.

"Please, Igor, take reason." Albus said and he nearly rolled with his eyes – nearly, as rolling with his eyes was anything than proof of dignity. "Severus is right, after all. Mr. Krum is of age and he therefore has the right to change schools, never mind the reasons. If I am informed correctly, then the young man would like studying potions whereupon Potions is not taught at Durmstrang in form of an apprenticeship. It is a side subject only at your school."

"Don't sugar-coat it, Albus." Filius said and he nearly smiled at the small man. "I'm sure that we'd find some of these quills were we to have a look at the Durmstrang ship and if Karkaroff has them with him, then he's ready to use them, never mind the localities."

"You better keep out of this, small man." Karkaroff hissed and he took a deep breath – just before several hexes came hurling towards the idiot man. As it seemed Minerva, Pomona, Septima and Rolanda had less patience than the male staff present for breakfast this morning and Igor Karkaroff was hit with several rather nasty hexes, some of which he didn't even know how to undo them – these are clearly coming from Minerva, he was sure of that.

"I suggest you best leave the castle, Igor." Albus said, waving his wand and – regrettably – undoing them. "I'm sure you won't have me searching your ship and you best leave Hogwarts grounds before one or another auror arrives at school."

"Is this a threat, Albus?" Karkaroff asked and this time he for real rolled with his eyes. What a cliché question – and knowing Albus he surely would answer with – "no, but a promise and I tend to keep my promises." – an just as cliché answer.

"Of course not." Albus answered, smiling and he shook his head. He had known it. "It's a well-meant advice, Igor, and you should heed it. A lot of people have heard this conversation and I think there could be one or another student telling their parents about the use of blood-quills, parents which will be very worried and call for the aurors."

"This won't be my last word." Karkaroff growled towards him while allowing Albus to lead him out of the great hall. "You'll hear from my person, Severus!"

"Of course I will." He murmured while sitting down, deliberately ignoring the idiot man. "Please continue breakfast." He then added towards his house and his guests. "You have my thank for your support upon a dire situation misters Wood, Davis, Montague and Diggory, it is – a good thing to realize that the several houses can build a unity despite the usual house rivalry, as much as this particular thought causes me a headache. Stop biting your lip, Harry. The toast and bacon surely will be much more nutrient and tasty than them. And you, Victor, please do start your breakfast. The situation is solved for the present time and we will discuss your near future after breakfast. I suggest a lesson in social studies today what allows us to discuss our recent situation more closely."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Settling down in several armchairs and on the sofas his house – that was slowly growing – prepared for a lesson they surely had not had at school before that.

Some of the students had attended a muggle primary school and some had attended a wizarding primary school, and he knew that neither of the two taught social studies. While a muggle school generally would teach a subject like this, the students attending a primary school were simply too young for this particular subject, and he didn't even know of one wizarding school that taught social studies at all.

"You know how to shoot a blue stone eater?" Harry asked Victor while they settled down and tried to get comfortable, the boy clearly trying to ease the older student's fears.

Well, the other four students, the captains of the Quidditch teams from all the houses, had left after breakfast, had gone back to their house-tables and had then gone to their respective classes, and he had started leading his house down to the dungeons – just when a very worried Poppy had approached him, telling him that he had Molly sitting in the infirmary, upset and rather unhappy about finding her youngest daughter having left the Gryffindor house.

He had told the other children to go on, had called for Zilly to accompany them – just in case should Karkaroff be present at the castle still – had told them to take a pillow or a blanket – or in Harry's case both – and to then settle in their living room, had told them that he would be there soon. And only after that had he then turned to follow Poppy towards the infirmary.

**Flashback**

_"But I don't understand!" He heard Molly already crying the moment he entered the infirmary. "I'm Ginny's mother! Why would Severus go against my wishes? It's my child! Ginny is my child and why is he taking her away now?"_

_"No one takes her from you, Molly." He said before Minerva could give an answer, realizing that the situation was more serious than he had thought. This was not the Molly he knew, the Molly he had expected. He had expected a fight, maybe even a physical fight, he had expected Molly cursing him and telling him to immediately release Ginevra back to the house of Gryffindor – not a helplessly and desperately sobbing woman that was – just lost. _

_Taking a vial with a calming draught from one of the shelves that lined the walls of the infirmary he approached the woman, waving Minerva off when the Gryffindor tried to explain something – most likely that Molly was in a mixture of shock, panic, desperation and depression, something he already could see upon taking just one look at her._

_"But why are you taking Ginny away now, Severus?" Poppy asked, crying even harder. "I've nearly lost Ron and Percy's not coming home anymore, and Bill and Charley are away and the twins are getting older too. Have you seen how much they've grown over the summer? And I have only Ginny left now and now you're taking her away too! Why would you __…"_

_"I am not taking Ginevra away from you, Molly." He repeated, reaching over the vial to the woman that got off her chair, sobbing and dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. "Drink this, please, it is a calming draught. Ginevra has changed houses only and …"_

_"But I don't understand, Severus!" Molly sobbed, ignoring the vial he was trying to hand her but leaning forwards instead, startling him with crying into his shoulder and for a nearly deafening silent moment he didn't know how to handle the situation. But then he took a deep breath and patted Molly's shoulder._

_"Now, now, Molly." He sighed, at the same time waving his wand midair and writing at the wall behind Molly so that she wouldn't see: 'go and get the two oldest Weasley children, Minerva'. "Why don't you calm down? There's no reason to be so upset. William and Charles are not out of the world. They are just a portkey, a floo or an apparition point away. Percival will get back to being normal, your twins are not out of the house yet and they have two more years, and Ronald has survived. You will have several more years of annoying children getting in your way. Take a few days with your husband and enjoy the peace you have, I am sure that Arthur will be happy to take a few days off. Just give your daughter the same chance your sons had, namely to learn without the pressure and fear of failure. She has suffered as much as have your sons and she needs time to recover as much as do they. She will be back in Gryffindor if that is her wish the moment she has caught up and is well enough to learn in a large and loud house full of daring idiots, but until then she will be happy and well cared for in a small house in which she will be seen and heard. Give your child this chance."_

_"Oh, I'm so sorry, Severus!" Molly sobbed even harder and he took a deep breath, closed his eyes. "I've never wanted to hurt my baby. I've never … what am I to do now? I'm so sorry, Severus, that you now have the responsibility for all of them …"_

_"Nice, one moment you are accusing me of taking your daughter and the next moment you apologize for things not your fault." He sighed, inclining his head towards William Weasley who just entered the room, closely followed by Charles. "I suggest you get your two oldest sons home, Molly. Prepare a nice cup of hot chocolate with marshmallows for them and then see that they have a nice morning with you. Just get your mother home and keep her busy, William." He said to the oldest Weasley son, relieved that Molly was now sobbing into her son's shoulder and not into his anymore. "See that she's taking this calming draught and then get a healer from St. Mungo's into the family. I think your mother has gone through enough and there's no shame in seeking professional help. Any mother would reach her limits upon the happenings of the past few weeks."_

**End flashback**

"I don't know." Victor said, settling beside Cameron.

Well, Charles had thanked him while William had led their mother out of the hospital wing and along the corridor, Molly sobbing all the way down the stairs and he had been really startled.

Molly was not only one of the strongest women he knew, she also was one of the – most boisterous, daring and risking mother he'd ever seen, standing with her fists raised before her children if necessary. To see her like this, it was scary.

"Well, that's easy." Harry answered and he lifted his eyebrow at them while taking the blanket Harry had brought from his room and dropping it over the boy's lap and legs. "Thanks, dad. Well, you shoot him with a blue stone-eater-gun."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Tomorrow morning we will visit the ministry." Severus said during lunch. The morning had gone past by discussions about what a young wizard could do after school, how he could start an apprenticeship or how he could visit a muggle university if he so wished. Most young wizards started one or another apprenticeship and did one or another mastery, in potions, transfiguration, defence or any other subject, others went to the ministry, but some would like to visit university – the thing was, the wizarding world didn't have that.

"Then you'll be my dad officially and for real?" The boy asked, big eyes on him.

"I _am_ your – father officially and for real." He said, not able bringing himself to using a word like 'dad'. "This ministry meeting will only be for you to get my last name but no one can take away what we feel. You are my son, Harry, never mind what."

"Alright." The boy said, but he didn't sound like it, not at all.

"How do you think you can shoot a red stone eater?" He asked, nearly smirking at the big eyes his son was making.

"A red stone eater?" The boy asked, startled. "I've never heard of a red stone eater, dad. There's no red stone eater."

"There is one, belief me – how do you shoot it?" He asked, lifting his eyebrow at his son.

"Uhm … dunno, dad." The boy unsurely answered after a moment. "With a red stone-eater-gun?"

"Do you really think it would be so easy?" He sighed, shaking his head. "Of course not, there's no such a thing as a red stone-eater-gun. You choke him until he's blue, and then you shoot him with a blue stone-eater-gun."

Well, he'd barely seen the child laughing as much as he did at that and he was satisfied. He wouldn't try to distract the boy normally, would rather try to get to the bottom of the troubles, but right now he thought this was better than having a tiring discussion, tiring for both, Harry and him. The child would see tomorrow morning.

He was sure that the boy wasn't even laughing at the joke he'd made, it was an as idiot joke as were all the others – but the fact that he had made them, Snape, the snarkiest and strictest teacher at this school – that was what had the child laughing helplessly.

"What's wrong with your animal?" Victor asked and he frowned, looking over at Diagon.

That bloody desert cat was – again – running through their quarters, was running from room to room, trying to get up the walls and even though he didn't know much about desert cat behaviour, he knew that this was not normal behaviour for this particular species. But well, the cat was young still, a baby cat, and so he guessed that the animal needed to – play and run around. He'd made sure that the animal couldn't destroy their things by gluing them to the furniture after the cat had run over several glasses one morning, spilling juice and destroying the glasses.

He'd quickly cast a softening charm so that neither the cat nor the children would get hurt by the shards, and since then he'd glued the glasses to the tables – as he'd done with other things. The children were able to grasp them and to get them off the table or sideboards, but they couldn't be knocked over accidentally.

"Diagon is a baby cat." He answered, leaning back in his armchair. "He's a bit wild, but I guess that this is normal behaviour. He's not a simple house cat but a desert night cat after all. He's a hunter."

"I haf a brother who works with hunting animal which are endangered, including desert night cats and even thought there are few of these animals left, my brother was the keeper of two packs – and both had young." The boy said and he leaned back in his armchair, listening. He himself didn't know too much about the desert night cat and even though he'd read everything he could get to read since Diagon was a member of their house, it was an entirely different thing if there was someone who was working with them. "And each summer holidays I am visiting my brother and can watch them. And even though the young are playing around, they're never as furious as this one seems to be. This cat is hunting something."

"Well, it is a hunting animal." He said. "I know that Diagon is hunting something. I just don't know what he's hunting. I've seen a few bugs flying around, but I can barely belief that he's really furious because of them. Maybe he'd need a playmate."

"I don't think so, Professor." Victor shook his head. "I'f watched some of them being alone. They're proud animal, and they're lazy, only hunting when necessary, even the young. They're playing, but not as much and as wild as this one. This one seems rather annoyed by something, maybe the bugs you'f seen."

"If it is so, then I cannot change it." He sighed. "I have searched the bugs whenever Diagon acts so strange, but I won't find it."

"Isn't there a spell that keeps bugs and other things out?" Harry asked. "Or to get rid of them at least?"

"Of course there is." He said. "But it is as it is with a muggle insect spray. It is not only harmful for the insects, but for men too, especially for children and especially for children with a damaged immune system, lungs, heart or other organs – in other words, I won't risk using them just because Diagon is on a bug-hunting trip."

"Leave him be." Neville said, sitting at the sofa beside him and leaning back – relaxed – and he lifted his eyebrow at the lazy leaning back. The boy was nearly leaning against _him_ even, something he wouldn't have done a few weeks ago. A few weeks ago the boy wouldn't have been relaxed in just a room with him, nor would he have sat down close to him by free will. "As long as he's hunting he's happy, isn't he?"

"I don't know, ask him." He huffed at the idiot boy.

"He doesn't look too happy." Harry murmured.

"How do you know what a happy cat looks like?" Draco asked, coming over to them together with Theodore.

"Dunno, but Victor is right, Diagon doesn't look too happy, he rather looks annoyed and furious." Harry answered.

"Maybe we should feed him with small snacks between?" Ronald asked, carefully coming over without approaching them completely. "Just to distract him from the bugs?"

"I don't think that would be a good idea, Ronald." He said, waving the child over. "Even though the thought is a good approach in the first place, take a seat."

Ronald Weasley had real troubles integrating himself into the group, even though he'd formed a threesome with Dean and Seamus. The remainder of the students were still careful when it came to the red-head. They didn't avoid him, but they didn't invite him either. It had become better with time, but it was clear that most of the others didn't trust the youngest Weasley boy.

"Diagon is a hunter, and as a hunter he has to hunt things, never mind which things." He said when the child sat down – close enough to them so that it was clear he belonged into the group, but still far enough away so that he wouldn't disturb the others. "If we now were to start feeding him, then he wouldn't hunt anymore and then he would lose this ability. He would always depend on us instead of himself what is his nature."

"Oh." The boy made. "That wouldn't be too good."

"No, it wouldn't." He agreed. "How do you feel about your sister being in our small house now?" He then asked, knowing that he had to make the first steps with this boy, like always.

"Oh, that's a good thing." Ronald answered, actually smiling. "I've been worried a bit and now she's here, and – well, she's one of the few who's talking with me. The others do too, but – they … it's different, they don't really want talking with me and they do just because they need to because we're in the same house."

"Hmm." He answered, seriously. "You do remember that I told you – the others will watch you close for some time and you will need to give them time until you have regained their trust, what won't happen anytime soon."

**Flashback**

_"Do you think Harry will give me a second chance?" The boy asked, his voice sounding miserable._

_"I guess you underestimate your friend, Mr. Weasley." Snape answered, taking another sip of his tea. "Harry has a great capability to forgive. He has forgiven the Slytherins, he has forgiven me, and I am sure he will forgive you too. If you however misuse his trust once more, then you will have to answer me. Your punishment will be an apology. You will apologize to Harry, and you will do so in front of the entire class. You will do so properly and you will explain your motivations towards him. Never mind Harry's reaction to your apology however, you will accept it and you will make it up to him in form of acting as a friend instead of a boy that is jealous just because his friend tries to comfort other people as well. And believe me, Mr. Weasley, should you act in such a way once again, you won't get away so easily. Did I make myself clear?"_

_"Yes, sir." The boy answered, looking a bit more relieved even if the worry hadn't left his face completely._

_"The others may see your actions, they might watch you close for a while and I guess it will take some time until you have regained their trust. But I expect you to try your best nevertheless their hesitancy towards you. And now I expect you to go back to sleep. It is still early in the morning and you have missed some of your much needed sleep."_

**End flashback**

"Yes, sir." The boy meekly answered. "But it's a long time now and – and they still don't trust me."

"It is one thing to gain someone's trust who doesn't know you." He said, leaning back and stretching his legs. "But it is an entirely different – and much harder – thing to regain trust you have lost because of a stupid mistake. You have not only just disappointed them, Ronald, you have hurt your friend, and badly so. Twice even. You have first attacked him, and you have then had his potion exploded what had caused severe damage to his health, and in a dire situation to begin with too. It isn't a simply schoolboy-joke you have done. You could easily have killed Harry and they know it. I think, the five weeks that had past since then are not a long time, considering the seriousness of the situation."

"Oh … sure." The boy said but he could hear the disappointment in his voice anyway. But well, he had never been a teacher who'd made things easy for his students, at least not if these students had caused their misery themselves. Ronald would learn not only patience but the seriousness of the situation too, he would learn to see what he had done realistically and he would learn to understand other people's reactions and fears. He would grow with it and in a few years when all of this was over – or maybe not over – he would have become a responsible young man. At least this was what he hoped would happen.

Of course he knew that for this particular outcome he would need to give the boy a chance. He would need to speak to him, he would need to teach him, and he would need to show him his ways and paths. And even then there was no guarantee – but well, he could hope and this wouldn't be the first dire situation he'd had with a student of his house.

He would manage, like he always managed.

And Ronald Weasley too would manage, like so many others before him had managed.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Sitting in the bright sunlight of the autumn sun he leaned back on the bench, allowing his thoughts to wander.

He wouldn't do so normally, he wouldn't leave his house alone in times of need – and they were walking through times of need, considering the events of the past few weeks. But well, Healer Adam had made it unmistakable clear to him – he either would take a rest from the children and their problems every now and then or he would be off the post. And _that_ – couldn't be happening. Well, and so he had asked Minerva to look after them for an hour – ignoring the woman's angrily furrowed brows because he'd asked for one hour only, Minerva surely thinking that two or even three hours would have been more sufficient – and had then flooed to London.

Bloody healers!

And bloody deputies!

And Hereweald wasn't much better either!

Nor was Harry!

**Flashback**

"Dad?"

"Hmm?" He asked back, less eloquent than he would normally be.

"You look tired." The boy said and he could hear the worry in Harry's voice. "You're alright?"

"Of course I am, you foolish child." He answered, eliciting a smile on his son's face. It was gone too soon however.

"But you don't look alright." The bloody brat said then and he frowned down at the imbecile.

"Look who's talking." He huffed.

"I don' care!" The boy angrily shot back and he lifted his eyebrow. So, the boy was still thinking that he wasn't meant to feel well but others only. "You've promised, you know?"

"Calm down, Harry." He said, seriously, taking both his son's wrists into his hands to keep the boy from running off, something Harry often was doing when the situation was growing over his head. "What have I promised?" He then asked, not really knowing what exactly the boy meant. He had promised a few things lately.

"That you'd be here!" The boy called, trying to get out of his grip and he increased his hold. "You've promised that you've been here, always, that you'd care for me! But now you're not well and you'll die and go away and leave me behind again! Just like everyone else! You lied!"

"I surely won't die, you foolish child!" He answered, pulling his son close and folding his arms around the shaking shoulders, glad to feel a bit more than just bones beneath his hands. "I am more tired these days than I've been in the past and I am not in my best form, but I am far from dying. I won't leave you behind, Harry. I promised that I would care for you and that is what I will do."

"But you're not well … and … and you're not looking after yourself either … and … and I don' wanna loose you … it's not fair …"

"No, I guess it wouldn't be fair." He sighed. "Would you feel better if I took some time for myself every other day?"

**End flashback**

There hadn't been a verbal answer, but the boy had nodded at him and well – here he was, visiting the London Park every now and then – not to do as Adam Chandler had demanded, or Minerva, and surely not because Poppy had threatened him with telling Adam. No, it was solely to ease Harry's fears.

This damn bloody and imbecilic little brat had gone through enough in his short life, he wouldn't add to this.

"Lost your job, Severus?" A voice he knew too well asked from beside him and looking up he crossed his arms in front of his chest, his left hand already preparing for gripping his wand.

"Why should I lose my job, Lucius?" He asked back, his voice as cold as ice.

"I've heard you have killed Creighton after he has hurt – your son." Malfoy sneered at the word and coldly he lifted his eyebrow at the aristocrat. "And then you have kicked Moody from school, have killed Karkaroff after he's hurt his student – which you abducted from him – and now you're trying to get into the ministry."

"I always knew that you're holding tight to gossip, Lucius, but honestly, this time you've made a fool of yourself." He huffed, not really knowing if he should laugh at the man's words or if he should shake his head about the idiocy he was displaying. "Where in Merlin's name did you hear these news?"

"Oh, your class has still ties to the Slytherins." Malfoy said and he lifted his eyebrow again, curiously this time. "And I have still some ties to one or another Slytherin parent even though you might have pulled several of them to your side. If you think that you could become the next dark Lord, Severus, don't you need a second? Someone you can trust as your right hand?"

"And you think you'd be the best person for this post?" He huffed at the blond.

"Of course." He said. "Not only do I have a lot of influence, but also am I a lawyer and well versed in ministry matters."

"And here I thought you were wearing the same dark mark as do I." He shook his head. "So soon you are to abandon your Master."

"As you have done." Malfoy shook his head.

"He has never been my master." He shrugged his shoulders. "I was a spy, you forgot?"

"Whatever, Severus." Lucius waved it off.

"You must feel the mark getting back to life, Lucius." He then said. "I'm sure you can feel it winding and writhing beneath your skin. And nevertheless you are about to betray your master."

"I have to look at what I have." Malfoy seriously said. "And what I have is a powerful dark man on one hand and the Dark Lord who has lost his powers because of a mere baby years ago on the other hand. A dark man who has killed and who is overtaking the school and the ministry. Together we could do great things, Severus, and together we could destroy the remnants of the Dark Lord for good."

"I don't think so, Lucius." He said. "But for the sake of old days, do you see the bird up there in the tree? Yes? And the squirrel over there too? Well, I'd be very careful if I were you, the ministry has taken a lot of aurors which are shape-shifters lately and even though I can see two only right now, I'm sure that there are even more of them."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Well, never before had he seem Malfoy leaving – and therefore leaving him alone – so quickly as he had right then. There had been a short "good bye, Severus" and off the blond had been, leaving him behind chuckling. He was still – inwardly only – chuckling while he entered their private quarters, finding Minerva and his children playing a game of wizarding Monopoly.

"This class can be very efficient if it wishes to be – when it comes to spreading rumours." He said, sitting down beside Minerva.

"What happened?" The woman asked. "You're looking as if you'd just had the time of your life."

"I've just met Malfoy Senior." He answered, watching Draco whose head shot up at his words, his face pale. "And while he somehow thought that I had killed Creighton as well as Karkaroff, he was somehow under the misconception that I were planning to taking over not only this school but the ministry too while I was at it, and he wanted to become my second hand."

"And then?" Minerva asked as well as several students and it didn't took even half a minute until he had Harry standing beside him, leaning against him while running one arm around his neck, as if he needed this physical contact to make sure that – he was still alive and Malfoy hadn't killed him yet.

"Well, I fear that several birds, squirrel, mice or other small animal will suffer for the next few years because he thinks they're aurors, watching him."

Well, he'd tell Minerva of his mark and which words exactly had been exchanged by Malfoy and him, but he knew, he'd scare not only Harry to death but the others too. He wouldn't do that before he wasn't absolutely sure about that.

"But we haven't told Mr. Malfoy." Vincent said, castling a startled look at Gregory and watching the other children he saw the same fear in every face – how had Malfoy heard of what had happened at this school?

"Not only is it no secret what had happened here, but also have you still ties with the Slytherins, seeing that this had been your former house and it is important that you keep these ties, as much as it is important that _you_ keep your ties together with the Gryffindors as this is _your_ former house." He added towards the former Gryffindor students which were his now. "Never forget old ties and never forget old friends, they could be very important one day. However these students in Slytherin might have told their parents and even though most Slytherin parents have turned their backs on Lucius and the remaining Death Eaters, there are still a few who're loyal to the Dark Lord, never mind his lost power."

"If so many Slytherin parents have turned their backs on uncle Voldie, does that mean that he'll have less power should he come back?" Harry asked and he frowned at the boy.

"Should he come back, then he will have less power due to times having changed while he had been powerless – but that doesn't mean that he will have less power generally." He said, sighing. He wouldn't lie to the boy, even though he might scare him. "Should the Dark Lord come back, then he will be dangerous, and he will be powerful – but with less supporters his powers might be less dangerous than they'd been last time. Each good witch or wizard on the light will be important to throw the Dark Lord back and to keep him from gaining more power even."

"Then it's a good thing that you've scared him with the animals that could be aurors?" Harry asked, softly.

"Maybe." He answered.

Maybe it was a good thing, because if all the Death Eaters were scared, then they would keep low. Maybe they would meet a lot of dead animal in future. He didn't know. It had been the spur of the moment that he'd said these words towards Malfoy. They would see what the future would bring – he didn't know.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued<strong>

**Next time in A few days more**

_Ministry meeting and black beetle meeting_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too, thank you …

**House cup: **

please note that Arithmancy Master, the Ravenclaw head of house, has retired because of private reasons and real life taking over – in other words, I am looking for a new Ravenclaw head of house. This post will be temporary until NaNo that starts in November first, and only then, should Arithmancy Master not come back until then, the post will become permanent. I do send greetings and my best wishes to Arithmancy Master in hopes that all will become well soon …

the present time it looks like this:

762 - Gryffindor - Head of House: Catlady

793 - Slytherin - Head of House: evil minded

678 - Ravenclaw - Head of House: free post

414 - Hufflepuff - Head of House: Lovelesslife, on probation


	26. monsters

**Title:**

A few days more

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Fourth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

"A few days more" is the sequel to "Twenty-one days" – read and review this first or you wouldn't understand all that happens in this story.

The fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindors have survived their imprisonment in the potions classroom situated in the dungeons. How will they go on in all-day life after their survival? How will they manage to reintegrate into the castle's routine and their classes? How will they be able to go back to life at all? Watch how those who survived fight for their lives and for their peace.

**Disclaimer: **

Did you see Severus alive at the end of 'The deathly hallows'? no?

Do you think I would have had him died if I had written those books? no?

Then you know that 'Harry Potter' does not belong to me … nor does Severus … regrettably …

But Hereweald Hrothgar does …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Please note** the announcement at the end of this chapter, just before the house cup

**Warning:**

Story will contain references to child abuse.

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help … there are too much humans in our world who are or had been mistreated.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be …^.~ … believe me - I am …

* * *

><p>break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line<p>

**Previously in A few days more**

_"Should he come back, then he will have less power due to times having changed while he had been powerless – but that doesn't mean that he will have less power generally." He said, sighing. He wouldn't lie to the boy, even though he might scare him. "Should the Dark Lord come back, then he will be dangerous, and he will be powerful – but with less supporters his powers might be less dangerous than they'd been last time. Each good witch or wizard on the light will be important to throw the Dark Lord back and to keep him from gaining more power even."_

_"Then it's a good thing that you've scared him with the animals that could be aurors?" Harry asked, softly._

_"Maybe." He answered. _

_Maybe it was a good thing, because if all the Death Eaters were scared, then they would keep low. Maybe they would meet a lot of dead animal in future. He didn't know. It had been the spur of the moment that he'd said these words towards Malfoy. They would see what the future would bring – he didn't know._

**A few days more**

**Chapter twenty-six **

**Day twenty-six – seventeenth of October – Thursday**

**Monsters**

"Very well, Mr. Potter." Harvest said and he leaned back in his armchair. There had been a moment when he had feared that _not_ Elsa Harvest would go with them through the official adoption but someone else and even though the ministry wouldn't be able doing anything against it, seeing that they'd done this with a potion – they still could make it difficult for Harry and the boy had enough troubles already, without the ministry behaving like idiots. "I know that Professor Snape has already adopted you – and that you already bear his name. Anyway I have to ask the following questions. But don't worry, it's a standard questioning only."

"'K." The boy said, still as nervous as he had been since he'd woken early this morning, unable to fall asleep again and getting on his nerves instead.

"And you are sure that you wish Professor Snape's presence while I question you, Mr. Potter?" Harvest asked and immediately the boy nodded his head so forcefully, he was sure he'd have a headache later on.

Well, normally the children would get questioned alone, without the future parent so that Harvest knew the child's opinion, without any influence from the adult, but Harry had nearly had a panic attack at alone the _suggestion_, had taken his hand and had refused to release him again. Even now he was still clinging to his hand like a leech, causing Elsa to smile and he cast one of his darkest gazes possible at the idiot woman, the only thing he could now, seeing that the boy wouldn't release his hand anytime soon.

"Now, Mr. Potter, Professor Snape is not the nicest teacher. You are aware of this, aren't you?" Harvest asked and he huffed. Let it be this woman to play his temper down. "He can have quite a temper."

"Sure, Ma'am." The boy said, large eyes on him and Harvest. "But … but he's great with this, because he's always honest. He's never telling lies, he's always saying what he thinks, he's never playing the nice guy like others."

"That is true, Mr. Potter." Harvest admitted, leaning back in her seat and he scowled. "But he's known to be unfair too."

"That's not true." Harry said and now he scowled at the idiot boy. How dare he to destroy his reputation! "He's always giving detention to his own students too, not only to the other houses!"

"The students say that Professor Snape is mean." Harvest said, smirking at him and he smirked back – finally the woman had made a compliment.

"Isn't." He boy said and his smirk changed into a dark scowl at the bloody brat now. "He's just displaying a mask, but he isn't mean! Severus just isn't making a fuss 'bout things!"

"But people dislike your Professor, Mr. Potter."

"Know." Harry said, his voice so sad that he looked down at the idiot child for a moment. "But _that's_ what's unfair, because they don't know him. They just make up their mind because of prejudices, because Severus has come from Slytherin. But he isn't mean, he's nice and caring and great and he … he's … he …"

"One more word to destroy my reputation, young man, and I'll cut you into small pieces for my next potion – which requires children parts anyway!" He growled darkly while clapping his hand over the boy's mouth, causing Harvest and Harry at the same time to laugh and he took a deep breath. The boy had been close to panicking.

"But … but …"

"There are no _'buts'_ Mr. Snape." He said, making it unmistakably that the boy was _his_, making it clear that he wouldn't allow anyone to take him away and surely not the ministry.

"Is!" The boy insisted and he took a deep breath. "Madam Harvest needs to know! Or she'll think bad of you too and then … it's … they wouldn't allow … it's not fair … and …"

"Stop right now!" He growled, turning in his seat and taking the chair the boy was sitting at, turning it so that the child was sitting directly before him, looking up at him with his damn large green eyes. "Madam Harvest _does_ know me quite well, Harry. We are working together to get children out of their abusive families for years now and she does know me. There is no need for you to make anything seen. Just answer her questions, that will do, foolish child."

"'K." The boy said and he took a deep breath before he turned his son's chair so that it would face the desk again, scowling at the smile Harvest regarded him with. Idiot woman! Making more out of it than was there! Really!

"Just relax, Mr. Potter." Harvest smiled, waving her wand and a glass of water appeared in front of Harry, nudging his forehead. "Maybe you would like something to drink? Now, why would you like Professor Snape adopting you?" Harvest asked and he could feel the boy's hand increasing the grip he had on his hand – again.

"Uhm …" Harry then answered and he knew, the conversation wouldn't go any easier than it had been so far, neither for him, nor for Harvest, and surely not for the child. "Well … it's … Severus offered and … and I didn't have someone else who really wanted me … and … and … well …"

"How is it that you didn't have someone who wanted you, Mr. Potter?" Harvest asked and he narrowed his eyes at the bloody woman. They had agreed that they wouldn't mention the Dursleys or Harry's past, not during the official ministry adoption. They would have to do just this, he knew – when it came to the Dursleys' trial, but the adoption should stay out of monsters.

There were enough monsters in the idiot child's life already without them having to claim recidence at the official ministry adoption too.

But well, he always had trusted Harvest when it came to any Slytherin child and their future, he should trust her now too.

"Well … it's just … you see … the Dursleys don't want me …" The boy answered, softly, averting his eyes. "They never did. They … they just had to take me … but Severus wanted me, and he's the only one! And I want him too!"

"What about your godfather, Mr. Potter?" Harvest asked and he could feel the boy beside him going rigid. "He has asked to adopt you, now that his case is re-opened."

Well, it was the – most wrong or less correct question or statement Harvest could have gotten out of that damn, blasted mouth of hers!

Alright, that was unfair because normally Harvest was one of the most reasonable women one could be thinking of, especially considering that she was working for the ministry, and she couldn't know about Black's idiotic behaviour, but this particular – well, he had a boy clinging to his hand so tightly, it nearly hurt and he wondered where Harry was taking his strength from.

"Calm down, child." He said, knowing that he needed the magic word _'child'_ right now. "Your godfather won't have a chance of getting his –" closing his eyes he took a deep breath to prevent saying something stupid he'd rue later on "- hands on you if you don't wish living with him. Calm down, Harry … would you please calm down, you foolish child! Take slower breathes … slower … right now!"

Well – it didn't work this time.

Normally he could count on his cold and reserved ways of handling situations like this one – but well, not this time. Bloody idiot boy, the child was just too close to him, or _he_ was too close to the _child_, never mind which way round, it had the same meaning.

"Harry!" He said, trying to be more – something. "Black is not here, and he won't take you away either, never mind what. Maybe we should inform Madam Harvest about your godfather's behaviour? Harry? Alright – well, Madam Harvest, Mr. Black threatened more than once so far to take Harry away against his wishes. He has even gone as far as attacking me, in front of Harry even, after he has tried to abduce the child. The boy is scared of him. He fears that Black might take him away and he would lose me because he knows that Black wouldn't allow Harry to see me again then."

"I see." Harvest said, her face dark while taking notes – and knowing that women, well, Black wouldn't be at the castle for long now. "Black has asked for time with Mr. Potter. When will you meet next?"

"Saturday for lunch." He answered. "In our quarters and with my presence. Professor Dumbledore knows of the troubles around Black and has agreed when I asked for my presence at all meetings between him and the boy. Not to mention that I've told him – this will be his last chance. Should he behave like he has for the past weeks, then I won't allow him near my son ever again, godfather or not."

"I think, I need a word with Mr. Black." Harvest said. "Don't worry, Mr. Potter. You are fourteen years old and you are old enough to decide where you wish to live. And if it is Professor Snape, then be it. I should ask a few more questions, but I think I have heard – and seen – enough."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

It hadn't been any trouble getting the boy home. Harvest had dismissed them and he had just gotten them home via her floo, knowing that apparition and the long walk from the gates and over Hogwarts grounds to their quarters would be out of question at that moment. Well, and right now – the boy was … like Diagon, pacing the room, sitting down at the sofa, just to pace the room again a moment later.

He had tried to distract the boy with a game of cards – without success. He'd also tried to keep the boy busy with having him writing a list about the potions ingredients they needed for the upcoming week – without success either and would he count on the list the boy made – or had tried to make – then they would go without potions next week.

Narrowing his eyes he wondered if maybe that had been Harry's intentions, but then he shook his head. It was long past, since Harry would be trying to get out of potions and even if, then it would not be without a reason. He had made this particular class a living hell for the child, and it would be only fair if the boy now tried to get out of it. But he didn't, on the contrary. The child was even trying to make it alright, like he most likely had done all the time, all the years before, tried to make everything right and good. The bloody child was just too nervous and upset to get this list done correctly, that was all, even though he didn't know why. Harvest had waved her wand and the name _'Harry Potter'_ on the papers in front of her had changed to _'Harry Snape'_. Harry was his, officially and unmistakably, with eye, hair and name.

For a moment he took a deep breath at the thought – Harry was his son!

"Will you stop this pacing if I provide you with a calming draught, Harry?" He asked, getting up from his desk and stepping towards his prowling son, stopping him by placing his hand on the child's shoulder.

"Huh?" Came the boy's question, Harry looking up at him, startled, only now realizing that he was in the room too – and others. "Uhm – I haven't been pacing?"

"And what would you call this walking to and fro otherwise than pacing?" He asked, one eyebrow lifted at the brat. "You are behaving worse than Diagon. One upset predator is enough, I don't need a prowling lion too."

"Uhm … sorry …"

"Just sit yourself down, Harry." He growled, gently pushing the boy down at the sofa. He'd get the boy to bed early tonight and he'd simply hope that he'd be better tomorrow, after a good night's sleep.

"There are two horses sitting in the dungeons, cutting oil." Draco said while sitting down at the sofa beside Harry, or rather – throwing himself down beside Harry, lazily and undignified.

"How can a horse cut oil?" Theodore asked, sitting down – a bit more properly – at Harry's other side.

"Never mind how a _horse_ can cut oil." Harry said, rolling his eyes. "Oil cannot be cut at all."

"Never mind that." Draco sighed, shaking his head. "Just listen, will you? Now, there are two horses sitting in the dungeons and cutting oil anyway, never mind if they can or not. Well, then a quill and a wand enter trough the door, they go up the wall above the door, along the ceiling all the way through the room, they go down the other wall and leave the dungeon through the other door. 'Have you seen that?' One horse asks the other horse, entirely shocked and outraged, but the other horse just answers calmly. 'Yes, they're never greeting.'"

"I have known that my son has somehow lost his mind in our old potions classroom." He said, sarcastically. "Now I fear that my godson has lost it too."

But well, they were laughing, again a stupid joke had saved the day, had gotten them out of their depression or nervousness – or rather Harry in this case – just like so often before, just like the day before.

**Flashback**

_"It is one thing to gain someone's trust who doesn't know you." He said to Ronald Weasley, leaning back and stretching his legs. "But it is an entirely different – and much harder – thing to regain trust you have lost because of a stupid mistake. You have not only just disappointed them, Ronald, you have hurt your friend, and badly so. Twice even. You have first attacked him, and you have then had his potion exploded what had caused severe damage to his health, and in a dire situation to begin with too. It isn't a simple schoolboy-joke you have done. You could easily have killed Harry and they know it. I think, the five weeks that had passed since then are not a long time, considering the seriousness of the situation."_

_"Oh … sure." The boy said but he could hear the disappointment in his voice anyway. But well, he had never been a teacher who'd made things easy for his students, at least not if these students had caused their misery themselves. Ronald would learn not only patience but the seriousness of the situation too, he would learn to see what he had done realistically and he would learn to understand other people's reactions and fears. He would grow with it and in a few years when all of this was over – or maybe not over – he would have become a responsible young man. At least this was what he hoped would happen._

_Concerning the making it easy part – his son was thinking differently, as it seemed because Harry took a deep breath, leaning against him as if searching for strength and then started – well, how could it be different? With one of his jokes._

_"Know how you can shoot a green stone eater?" The boy asked. _

_"I don't know, maybe with a green stone-eater-gun?" Ronald asked, actually sounding happy at the joke his former friend was making. _

_"C'mon! Of course not!" Harry rolled his eyes and he smirked. "You anger him until he's red, then you choke him until he's blue, and then you shoot him with a blue stone-eater-gun."_

_"And how do you shoot a yellow stone eater?" He asked, narrowing his eyes at the boy. _

_"That's easy dad." The boy smiled back with large eyes. "You make him feeling ill until he's green, then you anger him until he's red, then you choke him until he's blue, and then you shoot him with a blue stone-eater-gun."_

_"Of course you'd do that." He sighed, knowing that he wouldn't be able to best his son a second time when it came to these damn silly jokes. _

_"But how do you shoot a purple stone eater?" The boy asked him and he lifted his eyebrow. _

_"You paint him yellow, then you make him feeling ill until he's green, you anger him until he's red and then you choke him until he's blue – and after that you finally can shoot him with a blue stone-eater-gun?" He asked, his eyebrow lifted.  
><em>

_"There's not such a thing like purple stone eaters, dad!" The boy laughed helplessly and he shook his head. Of course there wouldn't be a purple stone eater!_

_Well, he knew that of course he would need to give Ronald Weasley a chance or he wouldn't be able to grow into a responsible young man one day. He would need to speak to him, he would need to teach him, and he would need to show him his ways and paths. And even then there was no guarantee – but well, he could hope and this wouldn't be the first dire situation he'd had with a student of his house._

_He would manage, like he always managed._

_And Ronald Weasley too would manage, like so many others before him had managed._

**End flashback**

It was a moment later that there was a wild roar accompanied by a screeching sound and looking over he could see – Diagon, sitting above a struggling – Rita Skeeter on the floor.

"Now, what have we here!" He growled darkly, drawing his wand. "I think we have solved the riddle about the annoying bug that has our cat getting up the walls. Miss Skeeter."

"What the … get this damn animal off me, Snape!" Skeeter screeched hysterically, trying to get Diagon off her chest while Diagon itself had no intentions of obeying, was rather annoyed at the little fact that he had lost his prey and tried to bit Skeeter's fingers off, her nose and her ears, whatever Diagon could reach.

"And why should I do this, Miss Skeeter?" He asked, approaching woman and animal. "It is such a nice view. Did you know that a desert night cat won't abandon its prey, never mind what?"

"What do you want, Snape?" Skeeter screeched, nearly sobbed, desperately.

"Oh, nothing." Snape smirked. "At least not much. I could need some bugs for my potions, but regrettably you're in your human form at the present time, what a shame. However –" He said, crouching down beside the woman who was desperately trying to keep Diagon from gnawing at her lower arms and wrists or fingers. "I want an unbreakable vow of you." He then said, smirking evilly. "That you will use your spying ability for good things only, that you won't spy on the people of the light anymore and that you won't write any story about minors, students, my person or persons who are close to me anymore, ever."

"I swear!" Skeeter screeched. "I swear! Now get that thing off me!"

"Not so fast, Miss Skeeter." He growled. "Take out your wand, Victor." He then added. The boy was of age and therefore he could partake in this ceremony, the vow would be valid. "And now you just point your wand at our hands." He said when he had taken Skeeter's hand.

"I know." The boy softly said in a tone of voice that made him looking over, looking into a pale face and he knew – ne needed to find out what unbreakable vow Karkaroff had made the boy swearing.

"We will talk about that later, Victor." He said before he turned back to the woman. "Will you, Rita Skeeter, use your spying abilities for spying on the Dark Lord and his death eaters only from now on and forever while keeping from spying on good and righteous people?" He then asked.

"I will!" The woman quickly answered.

"Will you keep from writing about minors, students, my person, family or other people who are close to me at all?"

"Yes! Yes! I will!" The woman screeched while Diagon had now started nibbling at her nose again.

"And will you do at least one good deed every day while not doing any harm anymore?" He then asked.

"I will! I will! I swear! Just get this thing off me!"

He waited for a moment until the soft line that had wound itself around his and Skeeter's hand had vanished before he released Skeeter's hand and then got off.

"Diagon." He called and – much to his own surprise – immediately the animal obeyed and got off Skeeter's chest where he had pinned her to the floor, even though the large cat didn't look too happy about it, eyeing Skeeter with eyes that clearly asked – may I have her back after you're finished with her?

"I … I …" Skeeter stammered, looking at him angrily.

"You may go to Professor Dumbledore." He said, calmly. "But not only can't he do anything against it, it's too late for that, but also am I sure that he will be very pleased with the situation. After all, I have neither killed you, nor have I used you in a potion, and I haven't even cursed you with one of my nastier spells. The only thing I have done was – demanding an unbreakable vow from you, which you have given freely." He smirked, extending his hand towards the entrance door, making it clear that he wished her off their quarters.

"Very well – Victor, my office." He then said, when Skeeter had left and their door was closed, ignoring the startled look on the boy's face.

He knew that Victor most likely wasn't used to a private talk with his teacher that wanted to help, just like Harry hadn't been used to that in the beginning and knowing Karkaroff, it wasn't so startling that the boy didn't really trust him. But like Harry, Victor would learn. The boy would learn to trust him, he would learn to listen to him and he would learn to talk to him if he was in trouble.

And a barely seventeen year old student who already knew how to do an unbreakable vow, that spoke very much of trouble.

Sure – had Harry just a few months ago stood before him, blankly, not knowing how to do an unbreakable vow, then surely he would have sneered down at the child, accusing him of stupidity and asking him what kind of wizard he was if he didn't even know how to do an unbreakable vow, but the truth was – it would have been unfair, as unfair as he always had been towards the child, because an unbreakable vow was one of the things no child should be knowing of.

And Victor might be seventeen, might be of age in the wizarding world, but he was a child still. Because with seventeen people were still too young to have control over their life, to have control over their emotions, over their decisions, over what was to come. Life was too difficult to consider a seventeen year old an adult.

"Sit down." He said, pointing at the chair in front of his desk while he sat down himself. Calmly he watched his newest student for a few moments, the boy playing with the hem of his shirt nervously, before he leaned back in his chair, folding his arms in front of his chest.

"Which unbreakable vow did Karkaroff demand of you?" He then asked, anything than happy at the realization that he had been correct when the boy averted his eyes, guiltily. He hated it being correct when it came to his student and the misuse or abuse of them – contraire to what other people thought – but the bad thing was, he was correct nearly always.

"The first vow was, he made me swearing that I killed the other students in the competition if it were necessary." The boy said taking a deep breath but still averting his eyes.

"And the second vow?" He asked, taking a deep breath himself and getting off his chair, pacing his office. He knew that the unbreakable vow was just that – unbreakable. The boy would have to do as he had sworn, he would have to kill if necessary, never mind what and his only chance of preventing this was to keep the boy from partaking – what was impossible or he would have taken Harry off the competition before anything else. In other words – the competition had to be cancelled, what wasn't possible either as the ministry wouldn't allow this, unbreakable vow or not.

"It was after Harry was chosen." Victor answered and he held his breath for a moment. If this vow included his son, then that couldn't bode well. "I had to swear that I would not kill him, never mind if I lost the competition. Professor Karkaroff said that there were other forces at work and that I had to leave him alive. I just had to take him to Professor Karkaroff during one of the tasks."

The boy had to …

This damn bloody idiot boy had to do what?

For a moment his mind tried to wrap itself around this new information, trying to understand its meaning, trying to understand …

"And you didn't deem it important to inform me about that little thing, Mr. Krum, did you?" He then asked, not sure if he should be angry or if he should be glad that at least Harry wasn't on the list of the dead – well, at least not from the beginning on but he knew, as soon as Karkaroff had his hands on the boy he –. "You ask for a place in my house but you don't think it necessary to inform me about my son being involved in Karkaroff's plans? About you having sworn an unbreakable vow concerning my son? You didn't even think it necessary to inform me about the homicide you are bound to fulfil?"

"Because I won't do it!" The boy said, angrily, for the first time looking up at him with blazing eyes. "I have sworn it, yes, Karkaroff made me, but I have also sworn to myself that I won't do it!"

"And how, Mr. Krum, do you intend on going against an unbreakable vow?" He asked, his voice a cold drawl. "Because an unbreakable vow is just that, unbreakable, Mr. Krum. You won't be able going against it."

"That is not entirely correct, Professor." The boy said, calmer – and not looking so angry anymore.

"How so?" He snapped at the idiot child – and nothing else than a child he was, seventeen years or not. "How do you think you can go against magic as old and as strong as the unbreakable vow? Explain!"

"I only can fulfil this vow if I am alive." The boy softly said and he gritted his teeth while approaching his desk, leaning with both his hands at the desktop.

"Are you speaking of suicide, Mr. Krum?" He slowly asked, softly, his voice nearly a whisper – a threatening whisper. "Are you actually speaking of killing yourself before the competition starts, Mr. Krum?"

"That's the only way to forgo the unbreakable vow." The idiot boy said, looking up at him, startled.

"That's no option, Mr. Krum!" He hissed at the idiot boy angrily. "That's –"

"There's no other way!" Victor shot back, getting off his chair to face him.

"Sit down, Mr. Krum, this instance!" He ordered. "You are correct, because no, there is no other way and anyway this is no option! It is out of question! It is beyond any reasonable discussion and you won't dare such a stupid thing or I will make sure that you are haunted in whatever afterlife you might end up, this is what _I_ swear."

"With all due respect, Professor, but I cannot abandon my plan without endangering Harry, which I won't risk." The boy said and he took a deep breath. "You have freed me from Professor Karkaroff, even though momentarily only but he will kill me anyway as soon as I have done what he demanded. I knew from the beginning on that I am dead, never mind the outcome of the competition. I cannot, in good conscience, stay in your house with the knowledge about what I am forced to do. I like Harry, and I do not want to harm him – or the others. But I have to if I am still alive when the competition starts."

"We will find a way, Mr. Krum, but suicide will be no option and believe me, I won't step back from even using the imperious to keep you from it if I have to." He growled. "Did I make myself absolutely clear, Mr. Krum?" He asked.

"You don't unders- …" The boy started and he leaned closer.

"_Yes, sir_ – is the only acceptable answer right now, Mr. Krum." He hissed angrily.

"But …"

"_Yes … sir_ …" Snape hissed, his dark eyes blazing. "_Right … now_!"

"Yes, sir." The boy said after taking a deep breath. "But …"

"There are no buts, Mr. Krum." He said, straightening and standing proud and tall in front of the boy. "I do understand very well, Mr. Krum, but like I said – we will find a way and until then I expect you at my office after dinner each evening for the reminder of your stay here. Added to this, seeing that I cannot trust you to act reasonably at the present time, I will cast an alarm at you that will inform me of any dangerous situation you might get in. You are dismissed." He then said, waving his wand to cast said alarm.

"But Professor …"

"You are dismissed, boy!" He growled. He needed not only a moment for himself, but he also needed the boy to take a moment in which he could get clear with his new situation.

Merlin!

How could this have happened!

How could … he needed to talk to Albus about this, because if anyone knew a way out of this, then it was Albus. Damn this idiot Karkaroff, the cowardice traitor! Not that it was enough, having to deal with Black, having to deal with Skeeter and having to deal with the Dark Lord the moment he would come back – and he knew that he would come back, he could feel the mark on his arm moving and crawling weakly every now and then, not to mention having to deal with Malfoy, other Death Eaters, Molly, Chandler and other idiots – _and_ of course his children, some of which were still ill enough so that he couldn't help worrying, his son included and now he had to worry about one of his children being forced to do a crime against another of his children, and again, his son included.

Running his hand over his face he tried to think about the next steps he needed to take, knowing that not only the other teachers and Maxime had to be informed, but that a healer had to be called too. For a moment he thought about an auror, but he discarded this thought rather soon.

Would they call over an auror from the ministry, then Victor would end up at Azkaban, never mind his being at fault or not and he wouldn't allow that. No – they rather needed someone from the order. Sturgis, Kingsley or Arthur for example, all three were gifted wizards who could keep the children safe if necessary.

They also needed to plan through the tasks anew and to set as much safety regulations as possible and Karkaroff needed to be arrested.

Damn! Preferably the entire tournament needed to be cancelled – but he knew that such a thing wouldn't happen, because the Britain wizarding ministry was trying to re-gain as much power, as much prestige, fame and glory as was possible. Fudge hadn't been too successful a minister of magic for Britain as had others been in the past. He was a coward and an idiot, depending on Albus and Lucius, being a play-ball between the two and the other wizarding nations knew this very well.

It was about power and politics and that had more value to Fudge than the life of a child.

Pinching the bridge of his nose he took a deep breath to calm his nerves, to get himself under as much control as he always displayed so that he could face the children without scaring them, and especially his son who would notice something before anyone else and who would be startled and scared beyond what he liked, even if he didn't tell him about the conversation he'd just had.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Well, apparently it hadn't been necessary to tell the boy anything about the recent troubles anyway, because it was just a few hours later, in the middle of the night, that he found his son sitting on the floor in the parlor, in front of the fire, staring into the dancing flames.

He watched the boy for a few moments, the much too small and thin frame, illuminated by the fire. Light and shadow were playing hide and seek on the dark green pyjama the boy was wearing, on the dark hair and on the pale face, light and shadow hunting each other in the same rhytm the flames were dancing in the grate, giving the boy a ghostly appearance.

The brat was fourteen, but he looked like one of the firsties. Admittedly, he had gained a bit of weight, wasn't a skeleton anymore, but still he was far from having a healthy body structure to begin with and he knew – the teen wasn't out of the woods yet. Too long had he been neglected, starved and abused by his aunt and uncle before the accident had happened at the beginning of this school year and there were things not even magic could solve.

The other children had nearly gained their previous weight already, most of them at least. Draco and Theodore were still too thin for his liking, as was Ginevra, and Adrian, but he was working on that and they would manage, even Draco, Theodore and Harry. With each day that passed they had a better chance to gain as much weight – and health – as they had had before their twenty-one days of imprisonment.

"What's wrong, Harry?" He softly asked, sitting down beside the boy at the floor, beside the fire. "Why are you not in bed?"

It wasn't the first time that he found the boy awake in the middle of the night, that was something that happened rather often, too often for his liking.

"Dunno." Said boy answered, shrugging his shoulders after giving away a sigh and he knew – there was more than just a sleepless night because of no special reason.

"Son." He said, just to remind the boy that – he was his son, and he Severus, he was the boy's father, and he expected his son to tell the truth, never mind what the truth was – not to mention that the child had the right to tell someone of his troubles, never mind what exactly was troubling the child in the first place.

"It's just – I've been dreaming." The teen sighed a second time, his eyes not leaving the fire. "You know, of the cupboard."

Yes, he knew.

There were no simple monsters in the boy's cupboads from his dreams.

There were no murderers, no reapers, no four- or eight-legged things and no ghosts in the cupboard, no anything scary that could linger there to scare children in the middle of the night. No – the only monster the child had in his cupboard, was he himself. Dreams of himself being locked up in a cupboard, dreams of laying in a cupboard, hungry and in pain because he'd been beaten up by the family he was living with, hungry and not understanding why his family kept him there, not understanding why his family kept food from him while he was hungry. But they were no dreams, because these things had really happened.

Harry's monsters were so real like any other child's childhood memories were.

**Flashback**

_Of course the castle had helped with these rooms._

_The lower part of the dungeons did already exist for only Merlin knew how many years, but the arrangement of these rooms, so that they would form a large flat for all of them, for meanwhile more than twenty children – the castle had done this. Minerva had helped in providing doors, windows and carpets while Albus had cared for the furniture and he would get the children's private things down here._

_"I need this cupboard being replaced by shelves." He said to the older wizard, even though he could see that the headmaster had done this cupboard – the furniture of this entire room actually – with more love than he had done the other rooms. The cupboard was made of warm brown wood with a dark blue line near the top and with the children's names written on the doors with the same blue, Harry and Adrian._

_"Why, Severus?" The older man asked. "You can't expect Harry to keep all his clothes on a shelf. He needs a cupboard which he can close and he needs __…__"_

_"He does not need a cupboard that will remind him of his relatives and where they have kept him." He growled. "I need the boy sleeping and resting at night, not having nightmares because of that bloody cupboard. He will be happier with shelves on the walls than with a cupboard in his room." _

_"Oh." Albus said, looking at him, nearly shocked. Idiot man! Idiot old man! Like always had he not thought of the deeper hurts of the children at his school, only seeing the faces, the hair, the eyes and the body – not their hearts, their hurts and their fears, like always! Only seeing the good in everyone, in everything, but not the dark sides of the coin. _

_It was the same as it was with – him, living down here together with the children. _

_It was the first time in Hogwarts' history that a teacher was living in the same quarters as did the children. Normally the children had their own common room with a bathroom and ajoining dormitories while their head of house had – just like all the other teachers at Hogwarts – their private quarters nearby, at least in the same part of the castle. His former quarters had been in the dungeons like the Slytherin common room and Minerva's private quarters were in the same tower where the Gryffindors had their common room. _

_For the first time the castle had provided quarters for students and teacher at the same place, in the same quarters – but not Minerva had taken offence at that, like he had thought she would – no, it had been Albus. _

_"Of course I'll arrange shelves, Severus, I'm sorry." Albus said and he scowled at the headmaster. _

_"I don't need an apology, old man – Harry does!" He huffed before turning and leaving the room._

**End flashback**

Ignoring the protest his bones and muscles started screaming at him he got off the floor and then reached out his hand to pull the boy from the floor too, and like he had known – Harry of course obeyed, took his hand and allowed him to get off the floor too, even though he might have liked to sit there for a while longer, watching the dancing flames, enjoying their warmth and their soft light.

He also ignored the sigh the boy gave away when he led him back to his room, the teen most likely knowing that he wouldn't be able to fall asleep again anytime soon, most likely for the remainder of the night, dreaming of his own monsters in the cupboard he didn't have in his room. He had made sure that there was no cupboard in Harry's room, but he couldn't take the cupboards from his son's mind and heart. _They_ would linger there forever.

Gently he accompanied his son into his room and led him to the large bed

"Tell me about what you know about Adam and Eve." He said while gently pushing the boy down on the bed.

"About Adam and Eve?" The boy asked, looking at him as if he had grown Gryffindor-red hair suddenly.

"Yes, about Adam and Eve." He said while covering the boy with the blanket and then pulling up the quilt. It was cold enough meanwhile, even though it was in the middle of October only, so that the boy needed a second blanket and so he had provided him with a thin, knitted coverlet beneath his quilt.

"As I understand it, the Dursleys haven't told you much about what's written in the bible." He said, satisfied when the boy turned on his side to watch him while laying more comfortably and he sat down into the armchair beside the boy's bed. "You were taught that you would end up in hell – what simply is a lie – and I think it is my duty to show you something else and we should begin at the beginning. Seeing that I do believe that our God exists, and seeing that he is almighty, seeing that it is _his_ will that will be done – he must love us very much if he leads the two of us together, providing you with a father – even though it is a grumpy old man – and providing me with a son."

"Even though it's a foolish child that causes you a headache." The boy said.

"Even though it's a foolish child that causes me a headache." He agreed, causing the boy to smile. "Now, what _do_ you know about Adam and Eve?"

"Uhm, well …" The boy made, frowning at him from beneath his blankets. "Dunno. The teacher at pre-school had said one day that God had made them. But I've never dared asking questions about it. Asking questions was not allowed with the Dursleys, you know? And before I could learn more about it aunt Petunia took me off the school. And aunt Petunia told nothing of it at all. I've learned some things while listening when aunt Petunia explained things to Dudley, you know, or while uncle Vernon explained some things to Dudley, but they never told Dudley about Adam and Eve, at least I don't remember it. Maybe they did when they got Dudley to bed." The boy mused, yawning. "But I don't really know. So, the only thing I know about them is that – well, God had created them and they lived in the paradise, and then Eve ate an apple and apparently she wasn't allowed eating an apple, whatever reason for, and then they had to leave the paradise. But, why would God forbid them to eat apples?"

"He didn't forbid them to eat apples at all." He said, leaning back in his armchair, happy that the boy didn't reject this subject from the beginning on. "God had first created an environment for Adam and Eve. He had created the world, heaven and earth, the garden Eden – or the paradise. He then had created food for Adam and Eve, in form of the plants and animals – not the other way 'round. That bears evident of great responsibility. You won't buy a rat without having a cage, litter and food for it either, after all. God had first made sure that Adam would be alright before he created him. And after that, seeing that Adam had been alone, God had seen that it wasn't good to be alone and so he had created a wife for him, Eve – again an act that bears evident of responsibility over his creation, he had made sure that Adam was happy. And he had even thought of an occupation for Adam that would give him some responsibility and a meaning too – namely to care for the garden he had given him. And he told him that they could eat of all the fruits from the garden except of the fruit of the tree of knowledge which stood in the middle of the garden."

"So, you really do believe that God had created us?" The boy asked, furrowing his brows. "I mean – if you explain it like this, then it sounds like something that really happened, not like a story from a book."

"It isn't a story from a book, even though the bible is a book actually." He said. He had known that sooner or later the boy would ask this question. "It actually is reality."

"But – science says that men developed from – from cells." The boy yawned.

"From a protozoon actually." He nodded. Of course he knew what the boy meant, as a Potions Master he was a scientist after all. "Yes, I know what science says. But for us to develop from a protozoon into a man – not only does the protozoon has to divide correctly, so that not only it wouldn't be destroyed but so that also it could divide and develop further after the first dividing – what would be a chance like what? One to one million? Very unlikely. But also does this overly fortunate coincidental process has to repeat itself about a million of times – so you see, it's plain impossible. Not to mention that life in its finest does exist. We can move, walk, hear and see, we can feel and think and we can learn. It is impossible that all of this has developed so finely and correctly by coincidence. There simply has to be a greater power, a creator who has made us – our Lord, God."

"Sounds reasonable." The boy said and he huffed. A fourteen year old that spoke of reason!

"Of course it does." He growled. "Now, there was the serpent one day, or rather Satan in form of a serpent, and he asked Eve why she wouldn't take from the fruits of the tree of knowledge of good and evil. And Eve said that they wouldn't be allowed, that God had said they'd die if they ate from these fruits."

"Why would God have them dying if they ate from these fruits?" The boy asked, clearly not understanding. "I mean, first God created Adam and Eve and then he'd kill him because they ate from a tree they shouldn't? Were the fruits on the tree poisonous?"

"No, they weren't." He answered, causing the boy to understand even less. "And it doesn't mean that they would die physically. There are more ways to die than being dead with your body. Your mind can also die, or your heart. And the bible often speaks of death while being cut off God and that is what God meant when he said they'd die if they ate from the tree of knowledge. However, the serpent then said that surely they wouldn't die, that God only had forbade them these fruits because if they ate them, they would become like God himself, knowing of good and evil. And well, Adam and Eve had enough to eat, they had an entire garden full of food, but anyway Eve ate from the tree and gave Adam from these fruits too."

"Maybe that's the reason as to why people think that Slytherin is a bad house?" The boy asked and he narrowed his eyes at the brat. "Because of the snake having had seduced Adam and Eve to eat from the forbidden Fruits? And Slytherin is the house of the snakes, after all."

"Hmm." He made. That bloody boy wasn't stupid, but he'd known that already, hadn't he? Harry was more intelligent than he'd given him credit for, for the past four years. "That's surely one of the reasons, but not the only one."

"You said God loves us very much, and you said God is responsible, but then why did he cast Adam and Eve out from the paradise?" He asked and he took a deep breath. It was remarkable how much the boy's questions resembled his own questions.

"Well, I think, God must have visited the garden – and therefore Adam and Eve – regularly, because after they had eaten from the tree of knowledge of good and evil, they hid themselves away and when God came to the garden he called for them when he didn't find them like usually. He then asked them why they had hidden themselves away, and if they had eaten from the tree of knowledge. I think, they could have taken responsibility over what they had done, and maybe then God wouldn't have taken them out of the garden – but they didn't. Adam blamed Eve and said she had given him the fruit, and Eve blamed the serpent because she had been seduced by her. And Adam even blamed God himself, said that it had been the wife he had given him, who had given him the fruit. They didn't take responsibility like God had done. I don't know what would have happened if they had – maybe they wouldn't have been cast out from the paradise. Maybe it wouldn't have changed anything because they didn't exist the way God had created them to begin with, innocent and childlike. But I think this isn't even important."

"What?" The boy asked, making big eyes and leaning on his elbow. "But that's the base for human life, isn't it?"

"Sure it is." He answered, shrugging his shoulders. "It isn't important anyway, because we have the chance to decide what we do with our lives. Will we remain cut off God? Or will we go back to him? He has given us the chance to go back to him, and we don't even have to make this decision within an hour or a day, but we have years over years, we have an entire lifetime to make this decision."

"That's good." The boy yawned, laying his head back on his pillow and closing his eyes. "So, in the end it's a story with a good ending."

"Of course it is." He said and he didn't need to use legillimence to know what the child thought – or felt. "God is not an angry Lord, he is not our Master to rule over us. He is a loving God who has given us our free will. He is forgiving and he is understanding, knowing what we need, knowing why we do what we do. Some would even say he's our father. I don't know if he is, but I know that he's happy about every person who decides to live with him instead of without him."

Well, he wasn't really sure if Harry had heard his last sentences – the boy was already sleeping and he took a deep breath. Yes, it really was time that the boy learned more about these things. Maybe he'd get a bible for the boy.

He didn't read in the bible every day, not even every week. He hadn't actually read in the bible for a long time, but he knew what was written in it, and he knew that it weren't nonsense words. What was written in the bible had a lot of power and it could be dangerous if people had the wrong interpretation. The muggle catholic church and even the Lutheran churches were the best examples for the dangers of wrong exegeses.

Well, he'd have a word with Adam about that – and surely not the first word, seeing that the healer was the only person whom he talked about such things from time to time.

After all, that bloody man was actively living in a community and they were providing children with knowledge about God, the bible and other things – not to mention with quality time for children in form of a lot of activities that helped them growing into confident and responsible adults.

Getting off the armchair he made sure that the boy was warm and that the small light on Harry's nightstand wouldn't turn off during the night. Warmth and light were some of the things the boy had missed for years, beside of food, sleep and rest – and it was one of the few things he could provide him with, even though there were enough things he wouldn't be able to give – like love, for example, and like belief or a life with God, because he didn't have this himself in the first place, because the Lord would never accept him, would never forgive him.

He had done unspeaking crimes. Not to mention that – you cannot serve two Lords, and many years ago he had chosen his Lord, the Dark Lord – not God, the Lord.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued<strong>

**Next time in A few days more**

_Saturday, weekend and night_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too, thank you …

**House cup: **

a post for the Ravenclaw house is found, in Awen-Meara and I say welcome to the team, may we be able to work together well …

concerning the Hufflepuff head of house I have employed Rjalker, seeing that Loveslife has not met my expectations during her time on probation. you too, welcome to the team, Rjalker … may you be able caring for your Hufflepuffs as well as Snape does for his Slytherins …

the present time it looks like this:

764 - Gryffindor - Head of House: Catlady

797 - Slytherin - Head of House: evil minded

678 - Ravenclaw - Head of House: Awen-Meara

416 - Hufflepuff - Head of House: Rjalker

* * *

><p><strong>September 13th, 2013<strong>

**Dear readers,**

just wish to inform you about another story – "… and sit a while with me …" – which will shortly start on the Profile of mrs. trabi here on fanfiction.

you will find some known persons in this story, and you will find one or another known incident in the story because the author of the story is me, even though I am posting this story not on my own profile but on my daughter's, and for several reasons so – one of it being because it's a rather unique story compared to my others.

more details you will learn while visiting mrs. trabi's profile:

www fanfiction net /u/2473886/mrs-trabi


	27. about learning, and about realizing

**Title:**

A few days more

**Author:**

evil minded

**Date:**

Month, 1st 2012

**Timeframe:**

Fourth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

"A few days more" is the sequel to "Twenty-one days" – read and review this first or you wouldn't understand all that happens in this story.

The fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindor have survived their imprisonment in the potions classroom situated in the dungeons. How will they go on in all-day life after their survival? How will they manage to reintegrate into the castle's routine and their classes? How will they be able to go back to life at all? Watch how those who survived fight for their lives and for their peace.

**Disclaimer: **

Did you see Severus alive at the end of 'The deathly hallows'? no?

Do you think I would have had him died if I had written those books? no?

Then you know that 'Harry Potter' does not belong to me … nor does Severus … regrettably …

But Hereweald Hrothgar does …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

please take also a look at the profile of " " and the story **"... and sit a while with me ..."**

**Warning:**

Story will contain references to child abuse.

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help … there are too much humans in our world who are or had been mistreated.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be …^.~ … believe me - I am …

* * *

><p>break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line<p>

**Previously in A few days more**

_Well, he wasn't really sure if Harry had heard his last sentences – the boy was already sleeping and he took a deep breath. Yes, it really was time that the boy learned more about these things. Maybe he'd get a bible for the boy._

_He didn't read in the bible every day, not even every week. He hadn't actually read in the bible for a long time, but he knew what was written in it, and he knew that it weren't nonsense words. What was written in the bible had a lot of power and it could be dangerous if people had the wrong interpretation. The muggle catholic church and even the Lutheran churches were the best examples for the dangers of wrong exegeses._

_Well, he'd have a word with Adam about that – and surely not the first word, seeing that the healer was the only person whom he talked about such things from time to time._

_After all, that bloody man was actively living in a community and they were providing children with knowledge about God, the bible and other things – not to mention with quality time for children in form of a lot of activities that helped them growing into confident and responsible adults._

_Getting off the armchair he made sure that the boy was warm and that the small light on Harry's nightstand wouldn't turn off during the night. Warmth and light were some of the things the boy had missed for years, beside of food, sleep and rest – and it was one of the few things he could provide him with, even though there were enough things he wouldn't be able to give – like love, for example, and like belief or a life with God, because he didn't have this himself in the first place, because the Lord would never accept him, would never forgive him._

_He had done unspeaking crimes. Not to mention that – you cannot serve two Lords, and many years ago he had chosen his Lord, the Dark Lord – not God, the Lord._

**A few days more**

**Chapter twenty-seven **

**Day twenty-seven – eighteenth of October – Friday**

**About learning, and about realizing**

"You need to write a speech, Harry." He said, entering their quarters and approaching the dining table where his children were sitting, discussing one thing or another and for the moment he didn't care what it was. "Concerning your participation in the tournament – as much as I do dislike this participation. And you too, Victor."

He just came from Albus' office, and the headmaster had told him that the ministry had decided – there would be celebrations on October, 31st, during the feast of Halloween, and the champions were to hold speeches. Nothing he was looking forwards to as he knew how unsure Harry was when it came to not only crowds, but to anything official too – and he knew that it would be official as not only the ministry would be present, but several reporters too. And Fudge, the idiot, expected speeches.

Not to mention that he was against that bloody tournament anyway, especially against Harry partaking in it – and Victor too.

"I haf told you that …" The boy started and he scowled down at the teen, effectively stopping him with his threatening gaze.

"No discussions, Victor." He growled angrily. "I expect you to write this speech. We will deal with anything else at a later point." He then added, looking at the boy pointedly and he was sure that Victor knew exactly well what he expected of him.

"Yes, sir." The young man answered after a moment with an unhappy sigh.

"Very good. Charms it is then, household spells, to be precise." He then said, waving his wand to clear the table.

**Flashback**

_"The only solution I can think of right now, would be using an imperius." Albus said after he had told him of the conversation he'd had the evening before with his newest student, Victor Krum. "But that would mean using an unforgivable and never mind the intentions, it would end in the user being sent to Azkaban."_

_"If it is the only way of keeping Harry alive in the end, then I will use it." He growled, darkly. "Because it would not only keep Harry save but Victor from fulfilling his vow either – which he doesn't want to fulfil, just by the way."_

_"You can't, Severus." Minerva said, shaking her head._

_"You have heard Albus, Minerva." He growled angrily at the woman. "There is no other way! Mr. Krum has sworn this oath, an unbreakable vow to hand Harry over to Karkaroff during the tournament and Mr. Krum cannot go against the unbreakable vow, it is simply impossible, never mind how much he wishes. That boy is ready to commit suicide just to keep himself from fulfilling the oath he had sworn."_

_"Well, this is one of the reasons as to why I have always been against banning these three spells." Albus sighed and he scowled at the old man. He wasn't interested in what Albus thought about the unforgivables being banned or other political views of one or another minister, he wanted to have a solution, and preferably one that would not have him ending up in Azkaban – what apparently was impossible. "Were it a legal spell still, then we could use it to keep Mr. Krum from fulfilling his vow. Why has he sworn this oath anyway?"_

_"Because his headmaster had made him, Albus." He growled, shaking his head. "What do you think? Surely a teen cannot just go against his headmaster, and surely not against a headmaster such as Karkaroff. I am sure that – the blood quills, are just one of his means to make sure that his will is done. It is the evil that men do, adults, and the children have to pay for it. Karkaroff is a coward and he has no problem with using children to ensure his safety. _

_"I do see your point, Severus." Minerva said. "But anyway, you can't. Imagine what it will do to Harry if you get sentenced to a lifelong stay in Azkaban!"_

_"Rather will I have the boy being unhappy because of that than losing him to death!" He growled at the woman. Did Minerva not understand that Harry's life was at risk?_

_"He won't be just unhappy, Severus!" Minerva said, adding to her words with hitting her palm at the table in front of her and he lifted his eyebrow. "Do you even realize how much Harry needs you? How much Harry loves you? If you end up in Azkaban, then Harry will be destroyed too. You are his only focus, Severus."_

_"Minerva is right, Severus." Filius said and he scowled at the charms teacher. "Someone else will need to do this."_

_"Do you really think that I will trust anyone with my son, Filius?" He asked. "Don't feel offended, but that's ridiculous, of course I won't."_

_"Harry has just gained a father, for once in his life there's something good." Filius said. "I just as well could do the unforgivable and I have no child I left behind. And I would be ready to do it."_

_"And I say no." He finally said. "This child had enough adults around him who didn't live up to their responsibility."_

_"And your responsibility is not to get yourself arrested, Severus, but to remain with the child." Albus said, trying to make his point, even though he knew very well what Albus' point was._

_Of course he knew that Harry wouldn't be – just unhappy. _

_But rather did he have the boy grieving than being dead. _

_"I won't gamble with my son, Albus." He said, getting off his chair. "And I won't trust anyone with my son either. I will do the imperius the moment the tournament starts." And without waiting for another idiot reply from the man he turned and strolled out of the headmaster's office, left the three others behind_

**End flashback**

He waved his wand a second time and a box floated over to the table where he lowered it down at the wooden surface and a moment later one thing after another floated out of the box until they were all placed on the table and the box was empty.

"There are different items, ladies and gentlemen, and I expect all of you to take one of these." He then said, placing his hands at the backrest of Harry's chair that stood in front of him.

He watched the children looking unsurely for a moment before Draco finally reached out to take the potions book that was laying amongst the items.

"You are not only _allowed_ to take whatever you want, Harry, I even _expect_ you to take something from these items." He softly said into the boy's ears, leaning down at him a bit, after a few moments, and after Hermione had taken the knitting needles just at the same time when Theodore had reached out for a cup. The boy looked into the cup and then wrinkled his nose when realizing that it was a dirty cup.

Slowly – and clearly unsurely – Harry reached out and took a map that was clearly the map of England, and patting the boy's shoulder he realized that – Albus, as well as Minerva and Filius, were indeed correct, because clearly the child needed him, and he needed him out of Azkaban. But at the same time he knew that he just couldn't gamble with the child's life.

Enough adults had failed the child, the Dursleys, Albus even, Minerva, the mutt, the wolf – and he himself most of all. He himself had failed the boy most of all, because he should have seen it from the very beginning on. But he had allowed jealousy and hate to rule over not only his actions, but over his common sense too. He of all people should have seen the signs, but he hadn't because of blind hate – and it had been Harry, the child, who had suffered because of it, who had nearly died because of it, who was still suffering because of it.

Ronald took a cup that missed the handle and Adrian took a teddy bear that missed an ear.

One by one the children took the items on the table, broken things, dirty things and things that missed pages or parts, until none was left, and until each child had one item sitting on the table in front of them.

The large dining table had become their – classroom, for the lack of a better term, because it was a table large enough so that all of them could comfortably sit around it, so that they had even enough room to write on it, and it was a friendly place. Of course he could have added a classroom to their quarters, neither Albus nor the castle would surely be against this if they needed it – but somehow the dining table seemed to fit for this much better.

"Hermione." He started and the girl looked up at him, expectantly. "You have just shortly moved out of your parents' house and now your mother is visiting this afternoon – in half an hour, to be precise, and you still need to cook, to clean the floors, and to lay the table – not to mention that you have still not finished the scarf you have started to knit for her birthday which is today. How do you get your knitting needles to work so that you have time to do other things?"

There was a silence so deep, he was sure that he would be able hearing a needle falling to the floor, and every single of his students looked at him as if he had grown a second head suddenly, Harry even turning in his chair, seeing that he was standing behind the boy, so that he could look up at him with owlishly blinking eyes. He lifted his eyebrow expectantly at the girl, ignoring the shock he – apparently – had caused his students, even though he couldn't understand how they could be so shocked, and a moment later the girl seemed to wake.

"Uhm." Hermione said. "I don't know a spell that would start the needles to knit by themselves. And there's no Latin expression for it either, is there?"

"No, there is indeed not." He said. "You just take your wand." He then added, waving his hand at the girl to dare her pulling out her wand and to point it at the needles. "You point it at the needlework, and then you just will them do move and to do their work. It won't be easy, but try it during the lesson. However, I expect you to stop the moment you feel dizzy, tired or in any other way ill. Draco." He then went on with the lesson, stepping behind Ronald who was sitting opposite Draco, so that he could look at his godson during his task.

The boy looked up at him, lifting the book for a moment as if to show him that – he had taken the book – and he smiled at the boy.

"You need the receipt for the forgetfulness potion." He then said, pointing at the book.

"I won't need that book for it, I know it by heart." Draco answered. "It's been the potion from our potions exams in our first year."

"I want you to look the receipt up anyway." He just said, watching Draco searching for the receipt. And well, seeing that Draco was well versed when it came to potions and potions books, the boy of course had soon found it, but then wrinkled his nose at the stained pages round that area of the book.

"Well – let us suppose that you don't know the receipt by heart. You – just accidentally of course – have poured coffee over one of my most expensive potions books, let's say – the book of Venenatus – and I have found out who the culprit was who did this – and now you desperately need to brew this particular potion so that I would forget about it. How do you get the page clean?"

"Since when would you suggest something like that as a solution instead of taking responsibility over what I have done, uncle Severus?" The boy asked and he sighed.

"Draco." He said, lifting his eyebrow at the boy. "I'm just trying to see it from your viewpoint."

"Well, if I get these pages clean, then I don't need to brew the potion anymore, because then I get the pages of the other potions book clean too – what clearly will safe my life, because forgetfulness potion or not, you will find out anyway and then I'd be just dead."

"You might be correct in this, Draco." He agreed. "Anyway – how do you get the pages clean?"

"I use a simple evanesco." Draco answered, shrugging his shoulders.

"Do it." He said, waving his hand at the book – and the boy did.

A moment later he was sitting in front of a blank page, a startled "oh, damn" on his lips.

"Language, Mr. Malfoy." He said. "Now, can you tell me why you have now a blank page?"

"Because the evanesco has deleted everything, not only the dirt but the letters too." Draco said. "And stop laughing, you two. I've never had a book with stains because I take care of books."

"I'm not laughing, I'm chuckling." Theodore said, trying to stop.

"I'm not laughing at you, I'm laughing _with_ you." Harry chuckled, causing Draco to laugh too. Hermione and Emma both looked bored and rather annoyed, as though they had known what would happen and suddenly he realized that, never before had he known the students in his house as well, as he knew them now.

Of course he had known his Slytherins while he had been their heads, and he still knew most of them, knew their families, knew their troubles, and knew their strengths. But he didn't knew them as well as he knew his new students, these students in his new house. He knew them as if – he knew them as if they were his own.

"The evanesco spell vanishes everything from the pages that doesn't belong there, the scripture included." He said, placing his hand on Ronald's shoulder, startling the boy who looked up at him, questioningly, and he squeezed his shoulder for a moment. Because this child too, as troublesome as he was, he was his child, in one way or another. "You need to just concentrate on removing the stains without a spell, Draco. Try it, but again – I expect you to stop your attempts the moment you start feeling dizzy, ill, or tired. Ronald – Professor McGonagall is visiting for tea and you do not wish to disgrace yourself with offering a cup without a handle to your transfiguration professor."

"I use a reparo." Ronald shrugged.

"Do it." He challenged the boy, and Ronald indeed pulled out his wand and waved it, saying "reparo", but of course nothing happened. The teen looked up at him, perplexed and helplessly, and patted his shoulder for a moment.

"You may use a reparo if you have all the shards, Ronald." He then said. "This cup is missing its handle since many years and most likely the handle doesn't even exist anymore, in this case, a simple reparo won't work. Again, you need to repair the cup with magic alone, without a spell. Try it, to will a handle on the cup – or part of the cup to form a handle – but stop the moment you feel tired, ill or dizzy. Theodore. Your girl friend is visiting."

There were whistles and "huhh"s as well as a "Theo!" coming from the other children and he shook his head, ignoring Theodore's face becoming a nice shade of red. "She is actually already sitting at the table in your living room and you have the cup for her tea in your hand – when you notice that it is dirty. It is too late to turn and get another cup, and using a spell would only show her that you have a dirty cup in your hand – what are you doing now?"

"Uhm – seeing that none of the regular spells have worked with the others, I guess I need to try and get it clean with a wordless evanesco." The boy said and he nodded his head.

"Do it, but stop if you feel dizzy, tired or ill. Harry, you have a map of England laying in front of you. I however do ask you to look for a place you would like to visit during the Christmas holidays – any place that is not in England."

"That's easy." The boy said, looking up at him with large eyes and nearly a gleaming face. "I'd like to visit Norway, and the Fjords, and … my aunt and uncle have taken Dudley to Norway and Dudley has told of it for months and months and for years and …"

"Then it is time that we do indeed visit Norway." He said, stepping back behind he boy and placing his hand at his son's shoulder, trying to somehow anchor the boy that seemed to get close to a heart attack. "Do show me where exactly you would go within Norway, on that map."

"You really mean it?" The boy asked, getting still but looking up at him with startled large eyes, the green becoming brighter than it had ever been.

"Have I ever lied to you, Harry?" He asked back. "I do mean it, we will visit Norway during the Christmas holidays if you so wish. And now show me where exactly you would like to go – on this map."

"But – but it's a map of England." Harry said, looking at him, startled.

"I know that it is." He answered, seriously.

"But – but, I'm not allowed to … y'know …" The boy started, unsurely, clearly being reminded of a lot of situations he'd lived through with his family – not being allowed one thing or another while knowing that he couldn't help what he was, a wizard.

"I do know that you are not allowed to use magic for the time being." He said, turning the map so that a blank parchment was laying at the table in front of the boy. "And I do not expect you to use magic at all. I expect you to simply show me where exactly you would like to go." He then added, handing the boy a pencil.

"I see, geography isn't your speciality." He said, a few moments later, but knowing that there had been enough things in the boy's life which he had never learned because he'd never gotten the chance from his relatives to learn, because he'd been kept from visiting school before he had come to Hogwarts, he also knew that it wasn't his son's fault – and with a wave of his wand he turned the map and then changed the map of England into the map of Norway.

"That will do, or we would end up in Italy instead of Norway." He then said, running his hand through Harry's hair. "Adrian." He then said.

"I know, the ear." The boy said, pressing the teddy bear protectively to his chest while looking at him, with his dark brown eyes as large as Harry's always got and for a moment he wondered – which boy had learned this habit from the other or had they both always looked as owlishly as they did right now?

"Indeed." He answered. "You got a teddy bear – but he's missing an ear, what do you do to mend it?"

"Professor Flitwick had shown us the reparo already, but I'm sure that I can't use it 'cause the bear's ear is missing, isn't it?" The boy asked, looking him up and down as if he had the teddy bear's ear hidden somewhere beneath his robe.

"It is indeed missing completely, and therefore you are right, you can't use this spell." He then said. "You will need to do this without a spell and by having your magic replacing the ear."

"But … but how?" The boy asked, looking up at him startled and scared, Adrian surely fearing that he would fail him.

"Close your eyes, Adrian." He then said, going down to one knee in front of the boy so that he was at eyelevel with the child. "And now feel with your fingers over the spot where the ear should be. That is right, Adrian, relax, you can do nothing wrong with this. And now try to feel your own magic, the way it is pounding through your body, try to see the colours of your magical core … that's right, child. And now you try to will your magic to do your biddings, try to ask your magic to grow an ear on the teddy bear's head."

Looking at the boy's face, tight and so much a picture of concentration, Severus suppressed a snort of laugher with some difficulty only. The way the child looked he actually could imagine Adrian asking his magic to do that and he wouldn't even be surprised if he had tried it already during the tasks he had set for the other children.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

At the end of the lesson Ron realized that Snape used a totally different approach on charms lessons than Flitwick had, but he had learned some really useful things and now he could remove stains, repair objects, clean and press his clothes, and he could shrink and un-shrink things. He had learned how to wrap a box of pralines and he had learned how to change maps, and he had learned to do all of these things without using a spell, but by willing his magic to do the things.

He had however learned something else too.

When Snape had placed his hand on his shoulder, then he'd been startled at first, not knowing why Snape would do such a thing because he had never before done that. But he had suddenly realized that Snape indeed didn't hate him, because people who hated other people wouldn't touch them the way Snape had, would they?

Snape had touched him the way his dad would.

His dad would place his hand on his shoulder or on his back if he were unsure, or if he were to solve one thing or another, or just because his dad wanted to say – "I love you", because surely he was old enough for his dad to say such a thing, he wouldn't want his dad saying such a thing anymore, he wasn't a baby, after all. But by placing his hand on his shoulder or on his back, his dad would say the same, especially if it was in such a warm and friendly way.

And now Snape had done this.

He still wasn't sure what he should feel towards Snape.

Snape had done everything in his power to make it easier for all of them, and for him, Ron, too. And Snape didn't call him Weasley anymore, but he called him Ronald. Not Ron, but Ronald. But well, he didn't call Theo Theo either, but Theodore. And he didn't call Ginny Ginny, but Ginevra. So, of course he would call him Ronald and not Ron.

And Snape had talked to him too, and more than once, and he'd been friendly, always. Serious, and strict, but friendly, and he'd always kept his promises.

Snape had created a new house for them – something he actually was glad for – and Snape had given them a new home, a new place to sleep, and to eat, and to live, so that they wouldn't have to part ways after they had become so close during the time in the dungeons classroom. They all could stay together and somehow he knew, he felt, that this was important. And Snape had made it possible.

Snape had kept them, all of them, and especially Harry, alive, even though Harry had been so close to death. And Snape had not only kept them alive, but he'd kept them sane too – and he'd made it as easy for them as possible. Even now. Snape could easily say that they needed to visit classes, that they had to partake in the all day routine of the castle. It would even be something he had expected Snape to do, to throw them back to their prior life and to abandon them. But Snape hadn't.

Snape took the time to care for them, and to teach them himself after the disaster with Moody and with Creighton, didn't trust any of the other teachers, and he showed patience and care towards them – not to mention that he always seemed to know what exactly they needed, and not to mention that Snape used an entirely different teaching style than he had in the past.

Gone was the greasy git of an unfair bastard, replaced with a strict and with a severe teacher, but with a fair and with a caring teacher – and he didn't know what to do anymore.

On one hand – it was Snape, wasn't it? It was still Snape!

But on the other hand – he wanted to like this new Snape while at the same time he didn't know how, or why, or if it was the right thing to do. What if he now started to like this Snape and then got into trouble with the other students because they didn't like Snape? But was it even right for them to not liking Snape because they didn't know Snape the way they did? And maybe it had been the same in the past? Maybe they had wronged Snape while disliking him?  
>Because maybe Snape hadn't changed, and maybe Snape had been the way he was now, back then too, and they had just never seen it because they hadn't known Snape the way they knew him now? After all, Snape had been the house of Slytherin, and he had learned that there were a lot of children like Harry, who didn't have such a good home life because they didn't want to become the new mini-death eaters. And maybe Snape had been for them what he was for him and the others now? And so Snape hadn't changed but his priorities had changed only? And now they were in his focus?<p>

But what if he started to like Snape now, and then Harry would get angry at him again because of it because of what Snape had done to Harry in the past? Harry had suffered so very much under Snape's hate in the past. How could he now start to liking Snape without betraying his friend? But Harry wasn't hating Snape anymore. Harry had started to love Snape, and Harry definitely needed Snape, and they were father and son now.

A strange thought, he wondered for a moment, Snape being a father, and Snape being Harry's father.

But that was what both had wanted, and still wanted.

Wasn't he just nurturing his own hate he had build up for years? And didn't he just want to go on hating Snape, so that he didn't have to admit that maybe he had been wrong? Didn't he just want to go on hating Snape, because it was so much easier to continue hating him instead of giving it a try, and giving it an effort and to change it?

Sighing he got off the sofa and went towards the study Snape had gone into half an hour ago, most likely to grade one or another essay, or to work on lesson plans for the week, or something else. Since Snape was their head of house, they had been closer to a teacher than ever before, and he'd started to realize that a teacher didn't just teach them, but that after the lessons a teacher didn't have a free time, but was to grade their essays, had to plan for the lessons, had to think about where they stood and how he could teach them things.

"You are still not to do magic." He heard Snape saying and for a moment he started to turn and leave, realizing that Harry was with Snape, but then curiosity took the upper hand and he approached the door, stood in the doorway – because he knew, he better didn't hide to listen on their conversation but approached them – or at least the room – openly.

"But how am I to follow the lessons then?" Harry desperately asked. "I'll be far behind in doing magic the moment Madam Pomfrey will finally allow it!"

"You won't." Snape calmly said – something he surely wouldn't have done in the past, giving a calm answer to Harry. "That's why I asked you to visit me in the evenings. Now, come here, child."

For a moment he was sure that Harry would throw a tantrum upon being called a child, but then he watched Harry actually calming down, even smiling at Snape, while obeying and approaching the man who sat on the sofa.

"Sit." Snape simply said while pulling Harry down until his friend sat beside Snape on the sofa, and then Snape pulled Harry down until he lay with his upper body on Snape's lap, his head leaning on Snape's right arm – and he blinked startled. Of course he'd seen Snape holding Harry like this – but that had been back then, when Harry had been so close to death.

"And now close your eyes, you foolish child." Snape said, while running his left hand over Harry's face. "And just like Adrian, try to feel your magical core. Relax your mind the way I have shown you during occlumency, and relax your muscles the way I have shown you during physical education. What colours do you see?"

"Green." Harry softly answered. "A soft emerald green, and velvet black, and they're dancing with each other."

"Dancing." Snape huffed. "How very interesting. I will need to be careful so that you won't wind me around your fingers. What you see are the magical strands – the emerald green symbolizes your magical core, that seems to be entangled with mine already. Can you feel the magic – _dancing_?"

"I can feel how calm your black strand of magic is, or whatever it is." Harry answered, sounding happy and peaceful and he slipped down along the doorframe until he sat on the floor, leaning his back against the wooden frame. "And I can feel how it tries to calm my green strand that is – like me, isn't it? Am I like this? So restless and nervous and jumpy?"

"You are indeed." Snape answered and he smiled, because Snape was right. Harry was a bundle of nerves and he seemed to jump from one thing into the other, always getting into trouble and unable to keep himself still for longer than a few minutes.

"And how can I become like you?" Harry asked. "So calm and so … so something?"

"Something am I?" Snape huffed at Harry and he nearly laughed at that. In the past Snape would have given Harry detention and he would have taken a hundred of points for that. "You will learn it." Snape then said. "You will need to face your fears, and your restlessness, and by learning that you don't need to be so restless and impatient, by learning that will happen what will happen anyway, you'll learn to become calmer – and something."

"It's like with a boggart, isn't it?" Harry then asked and even though he was now sitting on the floor and didn't see the two anymore he knew that Harry had sat up and was now looking at Snape. "You have to learn to face your fears, by ridiculing them, and then the boggart doesn't scare you anymore. And with your core it is the same, if you face your restlessness, then you will get calmer, correct?"

"Correct indeed." Snape answered, even though he didn't really know how one could face his restlessness. "what was your boggart like, Harry?"

"My boggart?" Harry asked, and he rolled his eyes. How could Harry forget it? His had, after all, turned into a spider and he would never ever forget it.

"Your third year, Harry." Snape answered. "The very boggart that had turned into my person wearing his grandmother's clothes – hat and purse included."

"Oh." Harry made and he shook his head.

"Oh, indeed." He heard Snape huffing. "Now, what was your boggart like?"

"I … I don't really know." Harry answered, and he frowned, turning his head so that he could see past Snape's desk and so that he could see his friend and Snape. "I … I've tried to face it, but … well, Professor Lupin had moved in front of the boggart before it could turn into anything. He'd said that he'd feared the boggart would turn into uncle Voldie and he didn't want the class to see that."

"I see." Snape seriously said, placing his fingers beneath Harry's chin and lifting his head. "And would the boggart have turned into the Dark Lord?"

"I don't think so." Harry softly answered, trying to avert his eyes but Snape prevented that.

"What is your worst fear, son?" The man then asked and he nearly held his breath, because he knew that Harry's answer would be either his uncle, or Snape.

"I'm not sure." Harry said, surely trying to avoid getting into trouble with Snape if telling him the truth.

"Harry …" Snape softly demanded. There was a pause – but then …

"Do you still want me to be your son?" Harry asked and he frowned, because that was not what he had thought would be Harry's worst fear.

"Oh, child." Snape said and he could see the man running his fingers over Harry's face, brushing away some strands of black hair and – a tear. "Your fears, my son, are not monsters under the bed or big hairy animals … your worst fear is loosing the people you care for. Your fear is that you might not be good enough and so you have learned to try and go past your limits, to brace yourself against rejection and to have the possibly littlest faith in yourself. I do understand that fear, son, but we are out of the wardrobe now, and here is no cupboard in your room anymore."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"There is no need to sit in the doorway at the floor, Ronald." He softly called the moment Harry had fallen asleep for sure.  
>He had noticed the boy earlier already, but he hadn't been ready to disturb the lesson Harry had been about to learn. Not simply the lesson about how he could feel his own magic.<p>

He knew very well that a lot of muggle raised children didn't feel their own magic the way the children which had grown up in a wizarding family did feel heir own magic, because not only were the children in a wizarding family grew up with magic – with magic that was floating around them, and with the magic done, visibly, as well as with the magic they could feel within themselves, but also did they know about magic because it was s regular and an absolutely normal topic to speak about. Their parents, their friends, and their siblings if they had some spoke about magic and explained things to them, not to mention that they did magic too, accidental magic each wizarding child did once in a while.

And though a child that grew up in a muggle family might know that it was special, that there was something different, this child wouldn't know what exactly it was that made him different, and that child most likely was punished for it – or at least frowned upon. Most of such children had learned that what they could do, or the way they were, was bad.

They had learned to avoid their abilities except for the few and short boosts of accidental magic, and a lot of them even tried to forget that there was "something wrong" with them. Considering Harry's past even, he actually wondered how the child could have not developed a blockade concerning magic. But Harry hadn't. A lot of muggle raised children who got blamed and punished for their "abnormality" and for being "from the devil" had started to develop a blockade and had real troubles doing magic the moment they arrived at Hogwarts – they had become squibs over their earliest years.

And when they came to Hogwarts, then they soon needed to send the children off and to other schools, to schools that dealt with squibs – either trying to teach them how they could overcome their blockade, or to simply teach them muggle things. Some however were still able to do a bit of magic but had trouble with it and so he had soon started to show these children their own magic, their core and the magical strands which wound around it as it was not only easily done, but as it also helped them to feel, to accept, and then to use their magic.

And seeing that Harry wasn't allowed to use his magic at the moment, due to his weakness after he'd been so close to death, and since he was still the very ill and weak, he had started to teach Harry in this, to feel his magic at first, and now to see his magic, and soon he would start to show him how to hear his magic even. It would help the boy in keeping up with the others, because after he had understood his magic, he would be able to use it without a spell, without a wand even, and without anything else.

"Sorry, sir." The boy said, getting off the floor and approaching him on the sofa where he still sat with Harry laying halfway on his lap and halfway in his arms, sleeping.

"There is no need to apologize, Ronald." He said. "Is there a reason as to why you have sat there for over half an hour while I have been teaching Harry how to see his magic?"

"Dunno." The boy said, shrugging his shoulders and looking at the floor.

"Sit, child." He said, ignoring the startled gaze the boy cast at him and he pointed at the armchair that stood at the other side of the small table in the background of his office. "Now, what was the reason you have come earlier?"

"I … I've just been thinking." The boy said, again shrugging his shoulders and for a short moment there was a sarcastic comment on his tongue, as to since when the boy had developed the ability to think. Not because it was Ronald Weasley, surely not, but because he was a sarcastic man in general. It was the thing he would say to just anyone upon the mentioning of using brain, thinking, or any similar expression.

"And what has been the subject of your thoughts?" He asked, knowing that the teen needed him to guide him to his answer.

"Well … I've been thinking about the lesson, sir, you know, this afternoon, the charms lesson." The boy said and he nodded his head.

"I am very glad that you are thinking about what you have learned instead of forgetting the subjects the moment the lesson has ended." He seriously said. "You wouldn't have done so a few weeks ago." He then dared.

"I think not." The boy admitted.

"So, what has changed?" He asked, knowing that sarcasm wasn't the right thing right now.

"I'm not so sure." Ronald said, slumping his shoulders and averting his eyes.

"Sit up straight and keep looking at people, boy." He said, running his hand through Harry's hair when the boy stiffened in his sleep at the word 'boy' and he knew why. However, he would not allow Ronald to adopt a slumped posture or to form a habit of averting people's eyes. "There is nothing you need to be ashamed for, and I expect you to always meet people while standing tall, sitting straight and looking at them openly. And now tell me of these unsure changes of yours."

"It's not me who has changed, sir." The boy said, looking at him and he nodded, leaning back on the sofa and pulling Harry with him, shifting the boy into a more comfortable position without waking him.

"What has changed then?" He then asked. "Or rather – who has changed then?"

"Well … it's you, who has changed." Ronald then said, and after his last statement he had feared that the boy would say that.

"I do doubt that, Ronald." He then said. "I might have – shifted a bit, but I am too old to really change. I am the same Severus Snape I have been in he past. May I inquire as to how you come by that realization however, Ronald?" He then asked, knowing that he couldn't discourage that particular boy or he wouldn't get an answer to his question.

"Well, you're not so mean anymore." Ronald said and he growled – because he _was_ mean, and he would show the boy how mean he could become. "You don't take points anymore and you don't give detention either. You don't say mean things anymore either, and you … sir, you even have started to love Harry."

"I do not love that foolish child!" He growled. "I might tolerate him, but that's all that is to that. Concerning my person not taking points – did you realize that I am not teaching regular classes anymore? The only points I could take were your points, and surely I won't take points from my own house – I never have."

"And why wouldn't you put us in detention anymore?" Ronald had the audacity to ask.

"Because you are weak enough as it is, and I won't have your condition worsened." He simply answered. "You just wait until the second term of the year, and then you won't have time to ask silly questions with all the detentions you will have."

"Alright, sir." Ronald said, getting off the armchair and then turned towards he entrance. For a moment he considered to tell him that he should sit back down – just so to have a serious word with the boy, but then … "Anyway, I don't hate you anymore, sir. Actually, I think, I like you." And with these words the boy turned to leave his office.

"Ronald." He called the brat back who stopped, but barely turned back, only a bit, enough so that he couldn't consider him disobedient. "Maybe it is _we all_ who have changed during the past few weeks, because there is no way that we have not changed upon what has happened. Consider this as an admittance that – I might be … less mean."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued<strong>

**Next time in A few days more**

_a few loose ends will be picked up - and Harry will meet a really sad thing ...  
><em>

**Added author's note**

please take also a look at the profile of " " and the story **"... and sit a while with me ..."**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too, thank you …

**House cup: **

At the present time it looks like this:

766 - Gryffindor - Head of House: Catlady

801 - Slytherin - Head of House: evil minded

678 - Ravenclaw - Head of House: Arithmancy Master

422 - Hufflepuff - Head of House: still a free post


End file.
